


The Curse of Prince Khufu

by Drogna



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Human!Gideon, Hurt/Comfort, Matchmaker AU, Matchmaking, RipFic, TimeShip, Timeship Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-08 04:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drogna/pseuds/Drogna
Summary: Gideon has moved in with Rip and his son, Jonas, and they're enjoying being a family. Everything is going well for them, right up until Rip's Ancient Egyptian exhibition decides to bite back. Nate's pretty certain that the Curse of Prince Khufu has struck again, Rip would just like to not be in the hospital, thanks.Modern AU set in IncendiaGlacies' Matchmaker Universe, where Rip met Gideon because she was his online dating matchmaker. Written for Day 2 of Timeship Week: H/C.





	1. He's Supposed to be Cursed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IncendiaGlacies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncendiaGlacies/gifts).



> Many thanks to IncendiaGlacies for letting me play in her AU. This is set in the same universe as her story "Gideon's Six Month Guide to Meeting Your Soulmate" - go read it, it's really good.
> 
> This fic comes with the usual "I am not a doctor" warning. I've done my best to be as accurate as possible but research can only get me so far.
> 
> Includes "blink and you'll miss it" cameos by two members of The Night Shift.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/69311505@N05/37444695522/in/dateposted-public/)

 

* * *

 

Rip awoke to find that, once again, Gideon had stolen all the covers and that he had been left to shiver. It was a common occurrence, but one that he was thoroughly happy to put up with. The woman beside him looked rather delightful, innocently wrapped up in their duvet, and it gave him an excuse to snuggle back in closer to her until the alarm went off and woke them both. If it had been earlier in the night then he would have slowly pulled some more of the duvet back to his side, being careful not to wake her, but at this point, he very much preferred the other option of just moving closer to Gideon.

She had moved in with him only a month ago, and the transition had been surprisingly easy, with only a few minor bumps in the road. That was probably because she’d been gradually moving her things into his house over the many months previous to that without either of them really noticing it happening. Which was very much how things seemed to work in their relationship, they never really made a big step without things already having been like that for a while. As his friends were fond of pointing out, they’d basically been dating for six months before he even officially asked Gideon out.

Rip still couldn’t quite believe that he got to wake up with Gideon beside him every morning. The novelty had yet to wear off and he was beginning to wonder if it ever would. She was beautiful, and somehow the lightly mussed bed-hair actually made her look more attractive. He gently wrapped an arm around her, and planted a small kiss on her forehead, enjoying the moment. They both had busy days ahead of them, and he was going to savour the calm before the storm while he could.

He could hear the sound of crockery clinking in the kitchen, which meant that Jonas was already up and getting his own breakfast. Gideon stirred in his arms, making a small “mmm” sound as she worked her way back to wakefulness. She rolled into his side, her head coming to rest on his shoulder and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Would you like to try that again but not into my shoulder?”

“I don’t want to get up,” said Gideon. “It’s nice here.”

Rip chuckled and placed another kiss on the top of her head. “We’ve got some time before we need to move.”

Gideon sighed contentedly.

“And I have a feeling that today is going to be hell,” said Rip, with a less contented sigh of his own.

Gideon groaned. “I was hoping to have a few more moments before I was reminded about the launch party.”

“Yes, and I’d quite like not to be receiving three hundred Egyptian artefacts from Cairo today. Alas neither of us are going to get what we want,” said Rip. He threw back the covers that he’d been left with, carefully disengaged himself from Gideon and got to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles.

“Oh,” said Gideon, with disappointment. “I was enjoying lying on you.”

Rip gave her a small smile. “I can’t very well get you coffee in bed if I don’t actually get up, can I?”

Gideon smiled back at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to. I have a feeling you’re going to be very busy today with Ray and his charity, so at least I can do one thing to make your life easier,” said Rip.

 He grabbed his dressing gown, pushed his feet into his slippers and headed down the stairs, running a hand through his unruly hair as he did so.

“Morning, Dad,” said Jonas, who was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and computer game magazine.

“Morning,” replied Rip, and rifled the cupboards for the coffee making supplies. He flicked the switch on the kettle and threw a teabag into a mug for himself.

“Did you sign my consent form for the trip?” asked Jonas.

Rip mentally kicked himself. He’d meant to do that last night and instead he and Gideon had pretty much spent the night working, before collapsing into bed together. The form was still pinned to the fridge, minus his signature. Jonas had been very excited about this particular school trip because it involved an overnight stay in a log cabin and a number of dangerous sounding activities, such as abseiling and climbing. Apparently, he had inherited his mother’s love for dangerous sports, and Rip really hoped that he wasn’t going to regret letting him go. Gideon had been the one to tell him to stop worrying quite so much and let his son have some fun.

“No, sorry, I’ll do it now,” he said, as he pulled it off the fridge and began to search for a pen. There was never one around when he needed it.

Jonas got up from the table, went to his school bag, took out his pencil case and handed his father a pen. There was an undeniable smirk on his lips.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the pen, and ignoring the smirk. He scrawled his signature across the bottom as the kettle began to boil, and handed the signed form to Jonas, who tucked both pen and form into his bag.

“No, thank _you_ ,” said his son, with exaggerated emphasis. Rip rolled his eyes as he finished making the coffee and tea.

“I hope that they have all the appropriate safety precautions in place on this adventure thing,” he said. The letter that had outlined the trip had contained the usual platitudes to parents about their offspring being taken care of, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to worry. And, of course, the absolute last thing he needed was to have to call Miranda and inform her that their son had been injured whilst on a school trip.

“You know they will, Dad. It’ll all be fine,” replied Jonas, digging into his cereal once more.

Rip decided that it was too early in the morning for his son to be the one doing the reassuring. He added a spot of milk to his tea, grabbed both mugs and headed back upstairs. Gideon was now sat up, resting her back against the pillows and scrolling down through messages on her phone.

“I think my son is more of an adult than I am sometimes,” said Rip.

“I’ve thought that for a while, but I didn’t want to say anything,” replied Gideon, not looking up. “What sparked that comment?” she asked, finally glancing at him. “Ooh, coffee, thank you.”

He handed her the mug, with a mildly exasperated look at her words.

“It’s this school trip. I’m having a minor nervous breakdown about the idea of him doing things like climbing and abseiling, and he’s completely fine about the entire life-endangering thing. Not worried in the slightest,” said Rip, carefully sitting back down on the bed beside Gideon. He sipped his tea thoughtfully.

Gideon put her phone down on the duvet and turned her full attention on Rip. “There really is nothing to worry about. It’s statistically very unlikely that anything would happen to him. One of us is much more likely to have a car accident or injure ourselves cooking. They’re the most common accidents.”

He was not at all surprised that Gideon knew what the likelihood of the most common accidents was. One of her degrees was in Statistics.

“Yes, I know, but he’s still my son and I can’t help but worry,” said Rip.

Gideon leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. “You wouldn’t be the man I fell in love with if you didn’t.”

For some reason that made him feel a bit better about everything.

***

Rip arrived at the museum late. After their relatively good start to the morning, things had gone downhill. He’d somehow burnt the toast and then spilled tea down his freshly ironed white shirt. Gideon had taken Jonas to school while he changed his clothes and headed out to work in a less than good mood.

He walked into the main exhibit hall to find that Nate was filling in for him. He’d texted to say that he was running late, but he still felt annoyed that he hadn’t been on time. There was a lot to do today and it was very unlike him to be late for anything, let alone something like this. Crates were being carried in and artefacts carefully unpacked and installed in display cases. He trusted his staff, but he also believed in a hands-on management style that meant he wasn’t going to stand back and just let things happen around him.

The Ancient Egypt exhibit was one of the largest and most high-profile exhibitions that the museum had hosted in quite some time. It included some truly exquisite pieces from the Middle Kingdom period and the First Intermediate Period of Egyptian history, and many of them were on loan from the Museum of Antiquities in Cairo. He was expecting the biggest shipment of pieces for the exhibit to arrive to today, which included five large, basalt statues. The most impressive of the five was the one of Prince Khufu, who was best known as the pharaoh who had commissioned the Great Pyramid of Giza. It was one of only two known depictions of the prince.

The statues were huge and required special lifting equipment to get them into the hall. They probably easily weighed at least a ton each, and they should be arriving just after lunch.

“How’s it going?” he asked Nate.

“So far so good,” replied his deputy, handing him the receiving list for the artefacts. Several were already ticked off and installed in their new temporary home. “I’m a little concerned about some of the papyrus displays. I think we may need to reconsider the lighting.”

“Too dim or too bright?” he asked, as he flicked over the pages of the list.

“Too dim. I don’t think anyone will actually be able to see them,” said Nate.

“Hmmm, that is a problem,” said Rip. “Anything brighter could damage the inks.”

“I know, but there’s no point in having them if no one can enjoy them,” said Nate.

“Perhaps we can put a brighter light on a timer. I’ll have to check with the conservator if that would be allowed,” said Rip. “Do you mind talking with the fitters about it, while I discuss the security arrangements?”

Nate nodded. “No problem. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

Nate headed off across the exhibition floor and Rip turned his attention to the meeting with the head of the security staff. Perhaps he should take Leonard up on his offer of going over the security arrangements, there was still time after all. The exhibition didn’t open for a couple more days.

It was well after lunch before he caught up with Nate again to see if he had word on the arrival of the crowning glory of the exhibit: the five basalt statues that would line one side of the hall. They were currently about half an hour late in arriving but that could be put down to traffic. It did make him a little nervous that they weren’t here on time though.

“I really hope we’re ready for this,” said Rip, regarding the areas of floor that had been cleared and protected for the heavy objects to be brought across them. One of his major concerns had been not to damage the floor of the room with the lifting equipment.

Nate nodded, reassuringly. “We’re ready.”

A shout of “Dr Hunter!” from across the room had him turning to find the representative of the Cairo museum, Dr Barbara Minerva, greeting him. She was a tall woman with dark hair, and tanned skin. The statues had arrived.

“Where are you planning to put Prince Khufu?” asked Dr Minerva.

Rip motioned for Dr Minerva to follow him and headed across to the area where the plinths for the statues had been set up. “Right here,” said Rip, indicating the central plinth of the exhibition. “Khufu should get pride of place after all.”

Dr Minerva smiled. “Yes, he is quite regal, isn’t he?” she said, as the statue was carefully edged through the doors. “Documents suggest he was used to being the centre of attention. This will suit him.”

Rip signed off paperwork as he spoke and handed Dr Minerva the final forms that confirmed their receipt of the statue.

“You know he’s supposed to be cursed,” said Nate, joining Rip and Dr Minerva, and eyeing up the statue while it was slowly manoeuvred across the floor and into position.

“Yes, I had heard,” said Rip, resigned to having to listen to a wild theory on this from Nate. Dr Minerva appeared to be merely amused by Nate’s mention of the curse.

“The Pharaohs often used to spread rumours about curses,” said Dr Minerva. “It meant their graves were less likely to be robbed, and it’s probably one of the reasons that so many treasures survived. You could regard it as actually quite lucky that he has a curse attached to him. He might have been broken down for building materials otherwise.”

“Well yes, but that’s not nearly as much fun as there actually being a curse,” said Nate.

“You’ll have to forgive Dr Heywood. He’s a romantic when it comes to history,” said Rip.

“Where’s the fun in our profession if we can’t indulge the odd flight of fantasy,” said Nate.

“Oh absolutely,” said Dr Minerva. “I’d love to discuss some of the more romantic Egyptian legends with you at some point. Khufu is said to have fallen in love with a hawk goddess and been buried with her.”

“Fascinating,” said Nate. “It makes me wish I’d gone into Egyptology instead of the American Civil War.”

“I’m sure there’s always time to go back to college and study a proper period of history,” said Rip, dryly. He and Nate had a friendly rivalry over whose chosen period of history was superior.

“Because the Renaissance was _soooo_ much better,” Nate replied, with not a little sarcasm.

Rip gave him a smile. “It was certainly more interesting.”

“Dr Hunter!” came another shout. Yes, this was pretty much how he expected his day to go, running from one problem to the next. “Excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere. Nate, can you supervise?”

Nate nodded, as he and Dr Minerva moved into position to help with getting the statue properly situated on the podium that had been prepared for it.

Rip had only taken a few steps towards the conservator who had called to him, when he heard a rather ominous sound behind him. He turned back to see one of the straps on the lifting rig had snapped, and Khufu was wobbling dangerously. It was seconds away from hitting the ground, and Nate, like an idiot, was trying to steady the thing. Dr Minerva had sensibly moved out of the way, but Nate seemed to want to be the hero, which was a problem because he was about to get himself killed.

“Nate!” he yelled, but it was a bit late for that.

There was the sound of a second loud snap, and the statue was tumbling downwards.

No thought went into what Rip did next, because if he’d had time to think about it, he would have realised what a stupid idea it was. He ran at Nate, catapulting him out of harm’s way. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough to get himself out from under the statue too. He let out a yelp of pain as several hundred pounds of basalt crashed into his left leg. Strangely, the thought that was uppermost in his mind after “bloody hell, this really hurts” was that he wished he had just decided to stay in bed this morning after all.

***

It was mid-afternoon. Lunch had been eaten rapidly whilst going over the seating plan for a final time, and Gideon was remembering why she didn’t usually take on this kind of event. Her phone buzzed at her and she looked down to see “Rip” flash up on the screen. She answered the call.

“Now isn’t the best time, Rip. Ray forgot his speech notes and the caterers just called to say they didn’t receive the preferences for the vegetarian option.” She looked down her list of things that still needed to be done and despaired a little. She wasn’t actually paying much attention to the other end of the call until he said her name.

“Gideon,” he said, and that single word was enough to get her full attention, because he sounded _wrong_.

“What’s happened?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he said, which, of course, immediately had the opposite effect. His voice sounded as if he was a little out of breath. “But there was a small accident at the museum, and I’m at the hospital.” At which point there was a gasp of pain, and then a “hey! Give that back. Owwe!”

“Hi Gideon,” said Nate’s voice, also not exactly sounding himself. However, she could detect undertones of guilt here rather than anything else.

“Nate, why is Rip at the hospital?” she asked, sharply. That got her a concerned look from Felicity, who had been checking over the arrangements for the PA system on a laptop next to her.

“There was an accident with the Egypt exhibit. One of the basalt statues fell on Rip’s leg, and they’re pretty sure it’s broken,” said Nate. “They’re just about to take him up to x-ray to see how bad it is, and there _aren’t any phones allowed_ in there.” The last bit was said pointedly, as if he wasn’t just telling Gideon the information, and then slightly further away from the microphone: “you can have it back when they bring you back down.” There was a pause, whilst a muffled voice, that she could still identify as Rip, said something rather angrily that she couldn’t quite hear.

Nate coughed. “Rip knows some good swear words. And he says not to drop everything, he’ll be fine on his own and he knows you’ve got a lot on today.”

“He most certainly will not be fine on his own,” she replied. “Tell him that I’ll ask Kendra to collect Jonas and I’ll be right there.”

Nate relayed the message and again she could hear Rip replying but not the words he said. He didn’t sound at all pleased.

“He’s not happy, but they just gave him more painkillers, so hopefully that’ll tide him over until you can get here,” said Nate.

She didn’t wait for him to say goodbye, she hung up and then looked around her, suddenly feeling strangely disconnected from everything around her.

“Gideon?” asked Felicity, “did you say Rip is in the hospital? What happened? Is he okay?”

Gideon frowned, somewhat frozen for a moment. “I need to go,” she said, shutting down the tablet she’d been working on. “There was an accident at the museum and they think Rip’s broken his leg.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh no, I can’t leave Ray on his own. He’ll never make it through the speech.”

What was she going to do? Rip was hurt and needed her, but she had responsibilities here.

“He’ll be fine,” said Felicity, calmly. “I’ll make sure of it, and Lily’s due to arrive any time now. I can finish off all the arrangements, and you’ll have your phone if I need to ask any questions.”

“Okay,” said Gideon, taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself, and nodding her agreement rather shakily. “But there’s still so much to do!” She had regretted letting Ray talk her into organising this multiple times already, but she wasn’t very good at saying no to him. Fundraisers were not weddings, but she was in the business of helping people and this definitely fell into that category.

“Gideon,” said Felicity, taking her boss’s hands in her own and looking directly at her. “I can cope. Go to the hospital.”

Gideon wasn’t really sure what she was feeling. She was quite used to dealing with stressful situations. She was the CEO of her own company after all, stress came with the business. But this was different. This was something entirely new, and she was finding it very hard to get under control.

She fumbled with her phone. “I need to call Kendra, and let her know that we need her to collect Jonas from his after-school club. He’s going to be upset when she tells him. Do you think Kendra could bring him to the hospital too? Is that even a good idea? Maybe it’ll just be too upsetting for him, but then maybe not letting him come would be worse.”

“I think you should ask Rip what he wants to do when you see him,” said Felicity, gently. “I’m calling you a taxi. You’re in no state to drive.”

Felicity got her own phone out and began searching her contacts for the taxi number. However, Ray, who had been stood on the stage practicing his speech once again, had noticed that something was going on and was currently striding purposefully towards them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking at the two women. “The caterers didn’t cancel or something did they?”

“Rip’s in hospital. Probably has a broken leg,” said Felicity, then she looked up. “Hey, you could drive Gideon there. Get out from under my feet for a bit.” Felicity bit her lip half a second after the words left her mouth, looking like she’d realised that she’d put her foot in it. “I mean, take a break from all that speech giving practice.” She smiled a little too brightly.

Ray’s face went through a number of different expressions before it settled on the one that Gideon recognised as benevolent concern. He put a hand on her arm, rubbing it up and down in a comforting way.

“Of course, I’ll take you,” said Ray, and he grabbed his jacket and car keys. “You can call Kendra on the way, but I could collect Jonas if she can’t or Lily can. We’ll work it all out anyway.”

Gideon let out a sigh. “Thank you. I’m really not sure what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“It’s going to be okay,” said Ray, soothingly. She suspected that he knew she was quietly freaking out about all this. “I mean broken legs aren’t life threatening normally. They’ll put a cast on it and he’ll be home by this evening. At least that’s what I remember from when I broke my arm.”

Gideon took another deep, calming breath. Ray was very probably right, and she let him usher her out of the building and towards his car.

***

The hospital was all fluorescent lights, bustling people and the sharp smell of disinfectant. Gideon hated it immediately. She was still feeling unbalanced, but had called Kendra from the car and she had also been quite reassuring that Rip was going to be fine. Jonas would be collected and Kendra would wait to see if she needed to bring him to the hospital to visit his Dad. Gideon trusted Kendra to break the news to Rip’s son sensitively and she knew Jonas well enough to understand how best to do that.

Gideon approached the reception desk, with Ray a couple of steps behind her. “I’m looking for Rip Hunter, he was brought in earlier today with a leg injury.”

The lady behind the reception desk looked up at her before turning back to her computer.

“Are you family?” she asked.

“Girlfriend,” said Gideon. “Er, we live together,” she added, and then wondered why because surely that was a detail that wasn’t required. All of her calm togetherness appeared to have deserted her.

“He’s just back from x-ray. Cubicle 4,” said the receptionist, and pointed towards one of the curtained off areas.

“Thank you,” said Gideon, and moved as quickly as she could manage to the indicated area. She heard him before she saw him.

“Please, don’t even _suggest_ that this is anything to do with that stupid curse,” he said, tersely to someone.

She pulled back the curtain a little and couldn’t help but smile. He was sat up on the hospital bed, wearing a light blue hospital gown, and propped up on a couple of pillows on the raised head of the bed. He looked a little pale and perhaps somewhat glassy eyed, but had crossed his arms over his chest. This was clearly hampered by the drip line that ran into the back of his left hand, but he didn’t seem to care about that. His expression was one of displeasure, and it was directed at Nate, who was sat to the side of the bed in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that seemed to be ubiquitous in hospitals.

Then he saw her and his face positively lit up with happiness. “Gideon,” he murmured, as if somewhat surprised that she was there. “Didn’t I tell you not to come?”

Gideon rolled her eyes, and rapidly moved in to hug him. “You did, and I’m ignoring you.”

The hug was slightly awkward, since Rip was at a lower height than usual, but they managed. He reached up to pull her down for a kiss, paying no attention to the presence of both Ray and Nate, as he tangled a hand in her hair. She heard an audible groan from Nate, but she really didn’t care. She was very glad to see him and a proper greeting was entirely appropriate.

“I’m really glad you did,” he replied when the kiss ended, quietly, so that really only she could hear. There was definite relief in his tone.

She broke away for a second, keeping hold of his hand, and looked at where his legs were splayed out in front of him. The left one had a large gauze pad covering something about half way down the shin, and she could see a few spots of blood seeping through the dressing. The leg was looking worrying swollen.

“How bad is it? Are you in pain?” she asked, worriedly.

“Not much. They’ve given me some very nice painkillers, which are making me feel a bit disconnected but they’re doing their job,” replied Rip, and she noticed that he ignored the first part of the question.

“How did you managed to end up with a statue falling on your leg?” asked Gideon.

“It wasn’t exactly my fault,” said Rip, glancing back towards Nate.

“What happened?” asked Ray, who was lurking at the gap in the curtain.

“Tell them, Nate,” said Rip, glaring at his deputy. “Tell them what happened.”

“Prince Khufu’s revenge,” said Nate.

“What does that mean?” asked Gideon.

“It means that when you see a 9ft tall basalt statue of an Egyptian Prince about to fall on top of you, you should get out of its way, not put a hand out to steady it!” said Rip, his voice raising towards the end.

“Equally, cannoning into me like some kind of superhero isn’t the best plan either,” said Nate.

“You were about to be squashed!” exclaimed Rip. “God only knows what we tell the Cairo museum. There’s bound to be damage. Dr Minerva did not look at all pleased, and quite frankly, if I was in her place, I wouldn’t be either.”

Gideon could not care less about the damage to the stupid statue.

“They were the ones who specified the weight and how we needed to move them. Maybe we tell them to do better with their weight calculations,” said Nate, with annoyance.

“So, the statue was going to fall and you pushed Nate out of the way,” said Gideon, finally getting an understanding of what had happened.

“Yes, one of the straps broke as it was being lifted, and its stupid staff thing caught me on the leg as it went over,” said Rip. “Although it has provided me with a unique perspective on Egyptian art, mainly how much it hurts to get hit by it.”

“And the statue was only just out of storage so it was covered in dust, and they had to get the fire department to move it off him just so that the medics could treat him,” said Nate.

Gideon fixed Rip with a look that very clearly demanded he give her the details. She didn’t need protecting.

“They’re a little worried about an infection, due to the dust, and I may have lost some blood,” said Rip, definitely trying to down play the entire thing. The blood loss probably explained why he looked so pale.

“It’s really broken?” asked Gideon.

“The bone poking through the skin is a bit of a clue,” complained Rip. “I’m waiting for the doctor to come and officially give me the bad news.”

Gideon went to lift the gauze.

“Don’t look at it,” said Rip. “It’s really not pretty.”

A woman in a white coat appeared, looking down at a chart as she pulled back the curtain. She startled a little as she took in the number of people in the room.

“Er, hi,” she said, “I’m Doctor Alexander. I’ve got your x-ray results back, Dr Hunter. Perhaps everyone could give us a moment while I discuss things with my patient.”

Ray and Nate nodded, moving out of the cubicle. Gideon was about to move out too, but Rip tightened his grip on her hand.

“This is my girlfriend, Gideon,” said Rip. “I’d like her to stay for this.”

Dr Alexander nodded. “Okay.” She put the x-ray she was holding up on the lightbox at the side of the cubicle and flicked the light on. Gideon winced at what she saw. The break was quite obvious, as was the fact that both of the bones were broken and out of place. There were a couple of small chips of bone that had splintered off the tibia too.

“I’m afraid this isn’t an easy one. You’ve got a compound fracture of the tibia and fibula that’s going to need surgery to reduce,” said Dr Alexander.

Rip sighed. “I had rather assumed as much.”

Dr Alexander gave him an understanding smile. “I think you’re my first case of fracture by ancient Egyptian statue.”

Gideon took the opportunity to snap a picture of the x-ray with her phone. She was fairly sure they’d want a record of this, and Jonas would probably want to see it.

“Well, at least I could improve someone’s day,” said Rip, good-naturedly.

“Sorry I can’t improve yours. Looking at this x-ray, I think they’ll probably want to pin the tibia – that’s the one that’s not sticking out at the moment, but hopefully the fibula can just be set and left to heal on its own. There’s a couple of bone splinters that they might want to remove. The surgeon will assess the situation once you’re up on the table,” said Dr Alexander, taking the x-ray down. “We’ve also got you on antibiotics to prevent infection, which is always a concern with an open fracture, but especially with all that Ancient Egyptian dust that was in the wound. And we’ll be taking you up to surgery as soon as a slot opens up, which should be in the next hour or so.”

“That quickly?” asked Gideon.

“The longer the wound is open the higher the chance of infection. We’d have had you in even sooner, but orthopaedics was backed up today,” said the doctor. “So, have you got any questions for me before I send you on your way?”

“Can I go up with him?” asked Gideon.

Dr Alexander nodded. “That should be fine, but you’ll have to step out when they need to prep him for surgery.”

Gideon nodded. “How long will the operation take?”

“That depends on how much work needs to be done, but it shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours,” replied Dr Alexander.

“When can I go home after the operation?” asked Rip. Of course he’d want to know that. Private person that he was, he’d hate the idea of staying here any longer than was necessary.

“Again, that depends on how much work the surgeon needs to do and how well the wound heals, but they’ll definitely want to keep you for a couple of days, just so that we can monitor things,” said Dr Alexander.

Rip let out a dejected groan, leaning back into his pillows. “Jonas is going to be cross with me. I promised him we’d bake cupcakes together tonight. And I’ve still got an Egyptian exhibit to set up.”

“You’ve got a broken leg that needs surgery,” said Gideon, in a tone that brooked no argument. “I very much doubt that Jonas will be cross with you. Anyway, I’ll look after Jonas, and Nate can deal with the museum.”

“I’m rather more concerned about the latter of those than the former,” said Rip, looking in the direction Nate and Ray had retreated to.

Dr Alexander checked the IV line. “Any other questions?” she asked.

“No, I think that’s it for now,” said Rip.

“How’s the pain?”

“I’m managing,” said Rip. “It’s sore, but not agonising.”

“Good. That’s probably about the best I can do for you without giving you something stronger,” said the Doctor. “I’ll be back when surgery are ready for you.”

She left, pulling the curtain back around the cubicle.

“You’re worried,” said Rip, looking up at Gideon.

“Of course I’m worried,” replied Gideon. “You need surgery. This is one of the times that people are supposed to worry. Even routine surgery has risks, and if you weren’t high on painkillers you would be worried too.”

“I am not high on painkillers,” replied Rip, indignantly.

“You’re surprisingly okay with all of this then,” said Gideon.

“Maybe I am a teeny bit high,” replied Rip, with a sigh. “But I am actually okay. The leg needs to be fixed and there really isn’t anything else to say about it.” He frowned, seeming to examine Gideon in a way that she wasn’t sure she entirely liked. “There’s something else bothering you.”

“If they’re not letting you come home tonight then it’ll be just me and Jonas. It’s never been just the two of us,” she confessed.

Rip squeezed her hand. “Jonas loves you, and he’s old enough to be able to take care of himself mostly now anyway. He just needs someone to make sure he doesn’t stay up too late, get him to school on time, and feed him.”

Gideon shook her head. “You know it isn’t that simple. Apart from anything, I can’t cook! I burn water.”

“You do not,” said Rip. “But I think there are some pizzas in the freezer, just follow the instructions.”

“At least we won’t starve. I asked Kendra to break the news to him. I thought she’d probably do a better job than I would anyway. Do you want her to bring him to the hospital?” asked Gideon. “Or do you think that would be too much for him?”

“Jonas is quite resilient. I think he can manage seeing his father in hospital and I know he’ll be happier if he’s seen me,” said Rip. He paused, and gave her a reassuring look. “It’ll all be fine, Gideon. It’s just a broken leg.”

Famous last words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pharoah Khufu, better known by his Greek name Cheops, reigned from 2589-2566 BC, and it is generally accepted that he commissioned the Great Pyramid of Giza. There is only one known statue of his likeness in existence and it's actually quite small, so I have taken a liberty here and given him a second, larger, more impressive statue.


	2. X-Rays and Burnt Pizza

Rip had been taken into surgery and Kendra had arrived with Jonas not long after that. Gideon had given Rip a good luck kiss and the nurses had wheeled him away down the corridor, saying they’d keep her updated and let her know the moment she could see him again. She found herself pacing nervously, as she waited for Kendra and Jonas. Her phone had been buzzing constantly, but she hadn’t wanted to deal with any of the messages or calls until she’d seen Jonas. A quick glance at the screen told her that Sara had called several times and so had Laurel, Lisa, Caitlin, Jax, and Len. There were also an increasing number of text messages coming in. She was going to have a lot of phone calls to make once Rip was out of surgery.

Jonas came dashing down the corridor with Kendra several feet behind. He slammed into Gideon, hugging her tightly.

“Where’s Dad? Can I see him?”

She stood frozen for a second before she remembered to hug him back. She hadn’t really expected this to be his reaction. She did know that Jonas loved her, and he told her often enough, but she’d thought he’d want Kendra not her. Kendra was more tactile and open with her feelings than Gideon ever felt comfortable being, and probably more comforting in this situation.

“They took him into surgery to reset the broken bones,” said Gideon. “I’m afraid we’ve got a bit of a wait before he’ll be out and ready for visitors.”

“Is he going to be okay?” asked Jonas, not showing any signs of wanting to let go.

“He will be completely fine,” replied Gideon, “and I know he’s looking forwards to seeing you.”

“Okay,” said Jonas, and finally let go a little. “I brought him his book. I thought he might want it. Kendra has it in her bag.”

“That was very thoughtful of you,” said Gideon, looking down at Jonas.

“Why do they need to take him into surgery?” asked Jonas, looking back up at her.

“Why don’t we sit down and I’ll explain,” said Gideon. She led Jonas over to the waiting area seating, which was mercifully somewhat better than the hard, plastic chairs in the ER. These ones actually had padded seats.

Kendra smiled at the two of them as she too made it to the waiting area, a bit more slowly than Jonas. “Hey, how’s Rip?” she asked.

“In surgery,” said Gideon. “It’s a compound fracture so they need to reset the bones, but everything should be fine once that’s done.” Her phone buzzed again. “I don’t suppose you could field some of these?” she showed Kendra the screen.

Kendra smiled as she saw the huge list of messages and calls from their friends. “Ah, I guess the word’s out then. I’ll go and let everyone know not to panic.”

Kendra got out her own phone and moved away down the hall to make the necessary calls.

Gideon and Jonas sat down next to each other. She got out her tablet and connected it to the internet. Then she found a diagram of the bones that Rip had broken. Jonas liked almost anything on a computer screen, and was quite into science as well so hopefully this would be interesting to him.

“These are the bones your Dad broke,” said Gideon. “This one is the tibia and this one is the fibula.” She pointed to each one. “Did Kendra explain what happened?”

Jonas nodded. “One of the big statues at the museum fell on his leg.”

“Exactly, and whilst bones are quite strong, they can’t stand the force of a 9ft tall basalt statue landing on them. Now, because of the way the statue hit the bone, it pushed the fibula through the skin, making this an open compound fracture,” said Gideon. “That’s what they call this type of broken bone.”

“Ooh, cool,” said Jonas, with wonder. Then he looked up at Gideon, who had raised an eyebrow. “I mean, poor Dad, I bet that hurt.”

“Yes, I imagine it did, but they gave him painkillers so he wasn’t in substantial pain for long,” said Gideon, suddenly wondering if she should be going into this level of detail with a twelve-year-old. Well, it was too late to stop now.

“So they have to put the bone back inside the leg?” asked Jonas.

“Yes, that’s exactly what they do. Then they match them up inside and they might have to put a metal pin in to keep everything where it needs to be,” said Gideon.

Jonas nodded. “And then they stitch him up again?”

Gideon nodded. “Yes. I have a picture of his x-rays on my phone. Would you like to see it?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” said Jonas. “Do you think he’ll have a cool scar when it heals?”

Gideon considered that. “It’s certainly a possibility, although I expect the surgeons will do their best to avoid it.”

Jonas looked unimpressed by that news. Gideon found the x-ray picture on her phone and showed it to Jonas.

“Wow, it’s broken all the way through,” he said, with amazement. “And there are little chips of bone floating about.”

“Yes, I think they said they were going to take those out,” said Gideon. Somehow talking to Jonas about this was making her feel a little better about the entire thing. Perhaps it was just that it was giving her something to keep her mind off the idea of Rip being in surgery.

Kendra returned from making her phone calls. “Sara made me promise that one of us would call her the moment Rip gets out of surgery. She’s got a phone chain worked out so that everyone can get the news and they won’t all try to ring you again.”

“Oh good,” said Gideon. “They’ve sent me far too many texts for me to answer anyway. I suppose I’d better reply to some of them.”

“Would you like to see Dad’s x-ray?” asked Jonas.

“You’ve got his x-ray?” Kendra seemed a little surprised.

“Just a picture. It’s quite an impressive break,” said Gideon. She brought it up on the phone screen again and let Jonas show it to Kendra.

“Goodness, that looks awful, and painful,” said Kendra.

“Gideon says they gave Dad painkillers so it didn’t hurt,” said Jonas, as if that was obvious.

“I’m sure that they did,” said Kendra, reassuringly.

Jonas gave Gideon her phone back, and leaned in towards her. It seemed quite natural to her to put an arm around him and give him a squeeze.

“Do you want to play on my tablet?” asked Gideon.

“Dad would tell me off for taking your tablet,” said Jonas.

“I don’t think he’ll mind this time,” replied Gideon.

Jonas nodded, still looking a little subdued, but he seemed okay. He accepted the tablet, and found one of the games he liked playing. Kendra and Gideon exchanged a smile over his head, and Gideon began to reply to the backlog of text messages.

***

Rip came around from the anaesthetic to a fuzzy haze of pain medication and bright lights. It took him a few moments to get his brain in order and remember what had happened.

“Hi there, are you awake?” asked one of the medical staff. She was wearing a name badge but he was too unfocused to be able to read it. “You’re in the recovery room. The operation on your leg went really well.”

He blinked at her. “Hi,” he managed, and then blinked some more. His vision was decidedly blurry.

She smiled at him. “There we go. We’ve got you on some stronger painkillers so you might be a bit out of it.”

He nodded. “I do feel strange,” he said.

“Just give it a few minutes. You were in surgery for a couple of hours so it’ll take a little time for you to feel properly awake again,” said the nurse. “I like your accent. You’re British?”

“Yes,” he said. “From East London.” He wasn’t good at small talk at the best of times and right now was certainly not the best of times. Although things were becoming a little clearer as he was awake for longer. He looked down at his leg, which was now swathed in bandages and supported by a plastic splint that wrapped around the underside of his leg.

“You’ve got a couple of visitors waiting for you on the ward,” said the nurse.

He frowned and then remembered. “Jonas and Gideon,” he murmured, with a small smile spreading across his lips.

“Strictly speaking visiting hours are over but they were both quite insistent that they see you before they go home,” said the nurse.

“I’m not terribly surprised by that,” he said. He could only imagine the argument that would have ensued if they had been told to leave. He frowned. “How bad do I look? I don’t want to scare my son…”

The nurse laughed. “I think it will take more than your current appearance to scare your son. He’s been reading the Wikipedia page on compound fractures and showing the nurses the gory pictures.”

Rip put a hand over his eyes and groaned. From his love of Halloween and, apparently, gory fracture pictures, Jonas was either going to be a doctor or a horror movie maker when he grew up. No doubt Gideon had been completely happy with this, because she didn’t always understand why Rip objected to Jonas watching certain things or playing certain video games. Miranda might actually kill him this time. Which reminded him that he was going to have to call her, because she’d be livid if she found out about this from someone else. And his mother too.

He realised that he was tired, which was weird given that he’d just woken up. Apparently being knocked unconscious with anaesthetic for the purposes of surgery didn’t count as proper sleep. The nurse checked his vital signs on a monitor beside the bed and he began to take stock of his body. They’d put an oxygen tube with a nasal cannula under his nose, he had a pulse oximeter on his right index finger, there was still an IV line in the back of his left hand, and his leg was throbbing slightly. It wasn’t actually painful, but it definitely wasn’t totally fine either. Mostly he felt slightly floaty and rather disconnected from what was going on around him. He decided that this was probably about the best he could expect after enduring a couple of hours of surgery.

“Can I sit up a bit?” he asked.

“If we do it carefully,” replied the nurse, and she helped him into a slightly more seated position by raising the head of the bed a little and rearranging his pillows. He felt a little dizzy, but other than that was fine. He took a couple of deep breaths and that seemed to help.

Time seemed to be passing at a rather unsteady rate, one moment he was aware of every second, and then things seemed to have happened without him noticing. A blanket appeared over him from nowhere, and he’d missed who put it there. He was going to ascribe that to the drugs they’d given him.

“I think you’re ready to move. Let’s get you to the ward, and settled in for the night,” said the nurse, and before he knew it he was being wheeled through the hospital corridors to a private room.

Jonas and Gideon were waiting for him. Jonas looked rather apprehensive, as did Gideon, despite the smile on her face.

“Daddy!” exclaimed Jonas, which told Rip everything he needed to know about his son’s state of mind. That form of address was reserved for apologies and dire confessions about broken items. Jonas was worried and so, by the looks of it, was Gideon. He held out an arm and made it clear that hugs were in order.

The two of them crowded in together.

“Oh, I’m so glad to see you both,” he said, as they squashed him into the pillows.

“Not as glad as we are to see you,” said Gideon. “They gave us a couple of updates and said it all went well.”

“Yeah, I got to see a screw of the type they put in your leg,” said Jonas. “It looked just like a normal screw, but smaller. I asked if you’d set off metal detectors but they said probably not.” His son sounded a little sad about that.

Rip raised his eyebrows. “Oh… good,” he said, having not really considered what having a metal plate in his leg would mean. His son’s enthusiasm for these details was probably something he should address, but he didn’t really feel up to it right now.

“Kendra was here too for a bit, but they said family only tonight,” said Gideon. “They won’t let us stay much later, but I’ll be back first thing tomorrow and Kendra will bring Jonas over after school again.”

Rip nodded, still quite enjoying the hug. His eyes closed a moment as he leaned against Gideon, and he realised that he wasn’t far off falling asleep.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little spaced out and tired,” said Rip. “And I should really call Miranda and Mother. But I think Nate might still have my phone.”

“I can do that,” said Gideon. “You just need to rest and heal up, besides I’ve got Sara and the rest of the gang to update, so another couple of calls won’t make any difference.”

“Ah, I hadn’t really thought about that,” said Rip. They finally broke the embrace, and Rip relaxed his muscles. “No doubt they’re all clamouring for updates.”

“I think I must have had about a hundred text messages,” replied Gideon.

“You didn’t get a cast,” said Jonas, with definite disappointment.

“No, they want to keep an eye on the stitches. They’ll leave it in the splint while I’m in hospital and I’ll get a cast to go home in. So you can draw on it then,” he said, knowing exactly why Jonas was quite so disappointed, and giving his son an amused look.

“Actually, Jonas brought you something,” said Gideon.

“He did?” asked Rip, looking at his son.

Jonas nodded and handed over Rip’s book. It was the one from his bedside that he’d barely read the first chapter of. “I thought you might get bored.”

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “This is exactly what I needed.” He put the book down on the bed, thinking he’d definitely get to it later. Being in hospital was probably going to be quite dull and he’d need some entertainment.

“Are you going to be okay here, on your own?” asked Gideon.

“Of course, I’ve got several nurses checking on my wellbeing,” said Rip, blinking hard. “I appear to even have a private room.”

“Yes, well, you can blame Ray for that. Apparently, Palmer Tech have shares in the company that manages the hospital. He abused his privileges a bit,” said Gideon. “I was very cross with him on your behalf, and then said thank you very much.”

Rip would probably have had something to say about that under normal circumstances but his mind felt like it was full of treacle. All his mental processes were moving in slow motion. He’d deal with it all when he felt more able to put proper, complex thoughts together. The mention of Ray stirred something in his mind.

“Wait, what time is it? Aren’t you supposed to be at his charity thing?” Rip wondered if there was a clock in the room, and what time it was exactly. It was dark outside, but that didn’t tell him much.

“Felicity took it over,” said Gideon, looking a touch amused. “She’s very capable and I should let her do more. Ray understood completely.”

Rip looked up at Gideon. “I’m really sorry I screwed up your day.” He was vaguely aware that this was a ridiculous thing to say given the circumstances, but the painkillers and anaesthetic residue appeared to have stripped away a layer of his inhibition.

Gideon leaned in and kissed him. “It’s not your fault that Nate doesn’t have the sense he was born with, or that you’re brave enough to try to stop him from getting hurt.” She brushed his hair away from his forehead and put a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes. “You’re a good man, Rip, and I love you for it.”

Jonas made a disgusted noise, which made Gideon giggle a little. Rip hadn’t worked out what the joke was yet, which he was once again putting down to his drugged awareness of reality. He felt the beginnings of nausea settle in his stomach, and he wondered if that was normal after an operation of this type.

His eyes closed for a moment. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’ll be more interesting tomorrow.”

“Stop apologising. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Gideon.

He felt Gideon kiss his forehead and Jonas hug him, but he was already half in dreams. It had been a stressful day, but he was very glad Jonas and Gideon had been here, waiting for him. It put his mind at rest, because he knew that they would take care of each other. His family might not be normal but it worked, and that was all that really mattered to him. He could sleep knowing that the two people he cared most about in the world would be together and fine without him.

***

The house felt empty, even though they only had one less person than usual. For the first time ever, Gideon was aware that she’d moved into Rip’s house and it didn’t feel as friendly as it normally did when he was here. She’d never actually been here alone for an extended period of time, only briefly while she waited for him to come home or if he left earlier than her in the morning. There was a wrongness to this, everything just felt as if they were incomplete.

“Dinner?” asked Gideon, as Jonas slumped down in a kitchen chair. “Rip said something about pizzas in the freezer. I think I might manage to cook us one.”

Jonas nodded. He’d been quiet in the car on the way home, and she was beginning to worry about him again.

Gideon looked at the boy. He was going to be tall, just like his Dad and she could see both Rip and Miranda in him. His dark grey eyes looked stormy and a little troubled.

“I’m sorry he couldn’t come home tonight,” said Gideon.

“I miss him already,” said Jonas, “and we only just left the hospital.”

“I know, but it feels like he should be here, doesn’t it?” said Gideon, leaning on the kitchen counter. “That’s the problem. We’re both expecting him to be here and he isn’t.” She sighed. She felt utterly useless. Jonas wanted his Dad and there was nothing she could do to bring him home right now. Then she had a brainwave. “But we could call your Mum? I need to tell her about your Dad’s broken leg anyway.”

Jonas’ expression brightened. Sometimes a parent was the only thing that would do. She’d never had that herself growing up, but she did understand the bond that Jonas had with Rip and Miranda. They were both important to him. She got out her phone and dialled. It would be late where Miranda was, but she should still be up and this was sort of an emergency.

“Gideon!” came the answer. “You do know what time it is here?”

“I am sorry for ringing so late,” she said. “I’m afraid I have some bad news. Rip has broken his leg.”

“What?! How on earth did he manage that? He never leaves that museum of his,” said Miranda.

“A statue from the Ancient Egyptian exhibition fell on him,” said Gideon. “They weight about a ton. He was quite lucky really, it could have been much worse. Anyway, they needed to operate to pin the bones, so they’re keeping him in hospital overnight, and Jonas is a little sad.”

“Oh dear, and I expect you are too,” said Miranda.

“The house feels terribly empty,” said Gideon.

“And you’re hoping that talking to me will cheer Jonas up a little?” she asked, from the far-flung location she was currently in.

“Yes, if you wouldn’t mind,” said Gideon. “I know it’s late.”

“He’s my son, Gideon, of course I don’t mind.”

“Right, I’ll hand you over then,” said Gideon.

Gideon handed the phone to Jonas with a smile that the boy returned.

“Hey, Mom,” said Jonas, and he wandered off into the other room. He already sounded happier.

Gideon decided to get the pizza into the oven so that it was cooking while Jonas talked. Then she moved on to getting out the plates and laying the table, mainly to give herself something to do. Once that was done, she took out her tablet and checked her email, seeing one from Felicity telling her that everything had gone swimmingly at Ray’s charity launch, so at least something had gone right today.

She wished that she could be as easily cheered up as Jonas, but she was still worried about Rip even though she knew he was through the hard part. The doctors had told her that the operation had gone about as well as could ever be expected. The bones were set back in their correct positions with the help of some bits of metal, they’d thoroughly cleaned the wound, and stitched it all back up. She just needed to believe what Rip had said: everything was going to be fine.

About fifteen minutes later, Jonas wandered back into the kitchen, the tone of his voice much brighter than before. “And Gideon showed me a picture of a leg fracture like Dad’s and there was a bone sticking out through the skin just like his was. It was really cool.”

Gideon winced. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic in her explanations of Rip’s injury. Well, she supposed that it was good that Jonas was at least not as upset about his Dad and was, instead, more interested in the mechanics of what had happened.

“Yes, I’ll be good for Gideon,” said Jonas, in an exasperated tone that sounded adorably like his father. He listened again for a moment. “We’re having pizza.” He nodded. “Yes, I’ll ask Dad to call when he’s feeling better. He was really tired.” There was another pause. “Love you, Mom.”

He handed the phone back to Gideon. “She wants a word,” he said, ominously.

Gideon nodded, her eyes widening just a little. She put the phone to her ear.

“Miranda, I’m sorry about the fracture pictures…” she started.

“Don’t be, it sounds like he loved them and given some of the things he watches, I doubt he’ll get nightmares now,” said Miranda. “Do you need me? I can be on a plane tomorrow if I have to be.”

“Rip should be out of the hospital in a couple of days, so I think we’ll be okay. And I’ve got Kendra helping me out with the school run, so, yes, we’ll be fine until Rip’s back on his feet,” said Gideon. “Thank you for the offer though. I know how busy you are.”

“Jonas always comes first,” said Miranda. “But it sounds like you have it all under control. How’s Rip really doing? Jonas said he was a bit spaced out after the surgery.”

“They said the surgery went really well, but they did give him some stronger painkillers. They’re really just keeping an eye on him to make sure there aren’t any complications. They put a plate in to stabilise the tibia, but the fibula should heal on its own, and they’re expecting him to make a full recovery with no problems,” said Gideon, hoping that the prognosis was right.

“Oh good, well give him my love. I expect regular updates and tell him to call me when he’s feeling up to it. He’ll probably say that’s never, but I do expect a call some time,” said Miranda.

“I’ll make sure he calls,” said Gideon.

They said their goodbyes and Gideon turned back to the pizza to find that it was smoking slightly.

“Oh, bloody hell,” she said and pulled it out of the oven.

The smoke of course set off the smoke alarm, which had Jonas pulling over a chair to stand on so that he could reach the button to turn it off while Gideon put the pizza down and fanned it with the over gloves.

Jonas climbed down from the chair and started laughing at her frantic fanning, which set off Gideon too. She wasn’t entirely sure how it happened but suddenly he was hugging her and they were giggling together as they contemplated how much of the pizza was salvageable.

Perhaps everything really would be okay, thought Gideon.


	3. Visitors and Bad Reactions

Gideon dropped Jonas off at school, getting a peck on the cheek as he dashed from the car. Then she headed back to the hospital. She had packed a bag with a few things for Rip in it, including the standard overnight requirements, such as a toothbrush and his razor. Visiting hours were quite generous for patients that were recovering from operations and only needed monitoring. Ray had offered to pull more strings to make sure that Gideon and Jonas could be there for Rip, but Gideon didn’t really want to be a nuisance to the hospital and she knew Rip wouldn’t want a fuss to be made.

She’d already called work to let Felicity know that she was in charge again for the day and where she would be. She’d also called Jonas’ school just to let them know the situation in case he was unhappy during the day. Hopefully he’d be fine until Kendra came to collect him later.

She entered Rip’s room to find a nurse with him and her boyfriend looking utterly miserable. He was pale and sweaty.

“Oh dear,” said Gideon. “You don’t look good.”

“I feel worse,” replied Rip.

The nurse got out a thermometer. “Put this under your tongue for me.” Rip did as asked with a rather put upon expression.

“When did this start?” asked Gideon.

Rip gestured at the thermometer in his mouth. It would probably make it quite hard to talk, she realised.

“He didn’t have a great night. His pain management needed to be stepped up, and he’s been quite restless. He didn’t feel up to eating breakfast.” Gideon noticed the untouched tray of breakfast food on the table at the end of the bed. The nurse looked at the thermometer as she removed it from Rip’s mouth. “And he’s running a temperature.” She made a note on his chart. “I’d better get the doctor to look at you. I’ll be right back.”

Rip leaned back on his pillows with a frustrated huff of breath. The head of the bed had been raised again so that he could sit up more easily. He seemed tired, which would make sense if he hadn’t had the best night. His eyes were bloodshot and there were the smallest of tremors running through his body.

She gently pushed his rather wild hair off his face, her hand lingering on his cheek. She leaned in to kiss him, and he responded, but slowly. It was like all his reactions were on a time delay.

“Sorry, not really at my best,” he said. “My leg is killing me.”

Gideon gave him a reassuring smile, and decided that distraction was the best tactic until the doctor arrived.

“I dropped Jonas off at school, but I did let them know that you’re ill just in case he gets upset or something,” said Gideon.

“Thank you,” said Rip, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “Did the two of you manage on your own last night?”

“Of course. I only burnt the pizza a very little bit, and that was only because I was on the phone to Miranda,” said Gideon.

“Miranda?” asked Rip. “Did I ask you to call her? My memory of last night is a bit hazy.”

“Yes, but really it was for Jonas to talk to his mum. He was a little subdued, and talking to Miranda cheered him up no end,” said Gideon. “I still need to call your mother, but I didn’t want to get her up in the middle of the night.”

“Very wise,” said Rip. “I don’t think this is the level of emergency that needs you to disturb my mother’s sleep.” They both loved Mary, but she could be a bit of a dragon at times. “What did Miranda say?”

“She sends her love and says to call her when you feel better,” said Gideon. “She offered to fly home, but I told her we had it under control.”

“She offered to fly home? She must have been worried,” said Rip.

“We’re all a little worried,” said Gideon.

“I think I’m too drugged up to worry,” said Rip, although his tone suggested he was definitely a little concerned. “I’m finding my thoughts are disintegrating before I get to them, which is rather annoying because I definitely had things that I wanted to say to you.”

Gideon rubbed him on his arm soothingly, and was about to make an attempt at saying something reassuring when a doctor in a white coat came into the room.

“Hi, I’m the surgeon who operated on your leg, Dr Clemmens,” said the doctor. “I hear you’re not feeling so good.” He grabbed the chart from the end of the bed. The nurse followed him.

“Not great,” said Rip.

“Okay, I think we need to take a look at the wound,” said Dr Clemmens. “And we’ll send you for a chest x-ray and CT scan just to dot the I’s and cross the T’s.”

Gideon and Rip watched as the doctor and nurse carefully undid the bandages. It clearly caused him a good deal of pain, but he wasn’t going to let them see that. She might have to keep an eye on that, his stiff upper lip was firmly in place, and she wasn’t totally convinced that “not great” really covered how he felt. Rip did wince as they got to the final layer of dressings and they were peeled away from the line of stitches.

“How does it feel?” asked Dr Clemmens.

“Painful,” said Rip. “It got worse overnight. It wasn’t nearly as bad when I came out of surgery.”

Dr Clemmens frowned. The wound looked dark red, and angry, with tendrils of the same dark red radiating out from the wound. It also seemed to be seeping pink fluid.

“It’s definitely infected. That’s why you feel so terrible,” said the doctor. “The question is why, when we gave it a thorough clean and you’re on antibiotics.” He eyed the bag of antibiotics that was currently dripping down the IV line and into Rip’s body. “I think we’ll re-clean and dress the wound, and put you on some different antibiotics. We’ll also take some blood and cultures and hopefully we can pin down what’s causing this.”

He glanced at the nurse who nodded, and disappeared only to return a few moments later with the equipment to draw blood. Gideon found herself moving closer to Rip, as if her mere proximity would help him feel better. The doctor left to see to his other patients and another nurse arrived with replacement antibiotics and to begin cleaning the wound again.

“This is going to be painful, so I’m going to numb the area first,” said the second nurse. “There’ll be a sharp prick, then I’ll give it a couple of minutes to work before I start.”

Rip nodded. “Okay.”

He squeezed Gideon’s hand a little more tightly when the needle went in, making him breathe in sharply, but Gideon wasn’t going to comment. She’d just offer what comfort she could.

“You should go to work,” said Rip, looking up at Gideon. “Apparently I’m going to be dull again today.”

“Don’t you want me here?” she asked, suddenly worried that maybe she’d overstepped the bounds of their relationship somewhere.

“No, I do. I’m just feeling terrible. I’ll probably spend the day sleeping, once people have finished poking and prodding me, and being strung out on painkillers. You’ve got better things to do than hold my hand,” said Rip.

“I’ve got my phone and my tablet. I can work here just as easily as I can the office,” said Gideon. “And you are far more important to me than work. I’d hope you’d know that.”

“I suppose I’m a little slow today,” replied Rip, with a small smile. “But you’ve actually never said that to me before.”

“Really?” said Gideon, with some surprise. “Well, you are.” She leaned down to kiss him again. She could feel that he was shivering now, despite the fact that his skin felt warm against her lips.

“You feel cold,” said Rip. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one with the temperature,” replied Gideon, aiming for lightness, to hide her concern.

“So I am,” he replied, blinking tiredly.

She was actually getting quite worried now, and wondering if she could sneak out so that she could grill his doctor without the patient being present. She needed to know the most likely outcome of this, and what the worst-case scenario might be. That was how she worked best, by sifting all the possible options and being prepared for each of them. The problem was that she doubted a doctor would give her any information without Rip’s permission.

The nurses finished off their various tasks, the last of which was to rebandage the leg and reposition the splint. Gideon tucked his blankets around him, even though she knew it wouldn’t help much. She felt like she had to do something other than just sit and wait.

They took Rip away for a chest x-ray and CT scan, so she took the opportunity to call Mary Xavier. The conversation went very similarly to the one she’d had with Miranda the previous evening. Mary offered to fly over, but Gideon reassured her that they would manage and said she’d call again when she had more news.

With that duty out the way, she got out her tablet and began to research wound infections and their causes. It seemed like the best thing to do. She needed to be informed. They brought Rip back to his room and he fell asleep soon after that, looking pale and rather fed up. Gideon moved on to looking up the new antibiotics that they’d put Rip on, and then the ones that he’d had previously.

“Hey,” said a voice from the doorway. Sara stood there in faded jeans and a washed-out t-shirt under her leather jacket. She was carrying the obligatory bunch of grapes.

Gideon looked up from her research. “Hello,” she replied, not quite sure what else to say.

“I thought he’d be complaining about being bored by now,” said Sara, quietly as she entered the room, and gave Rip a long look. “He’s not looking too hot.”

Gideon put her tablet down. “He’s picked up an infection,” she said, “so I suppose you could say that being too hot is part of the problem.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Sara, worry clouding her eyes. She dropped the grapes on the table at the end of the bed.

“The doctor seems to think that some new antibiotics will help, but we’ll see,” said Gideon. “My calculations indicate a 20% chance of success without knowing what the cause of the infection is.”

“Have you told them that?” asked Sara, with a slight smile on her lips. “But once they work out what’s causing it?”

“Oh, considerably better,” said Gideon. “They’ve taken blood samples and cultures so hopefully they will get results back by the end of the day.” This was something that she’d read about.

“I guess he’s not going home today,” said Sara.

“I think that was always unlikely, but no, he’s definitely not going to be allowed to go home today,” said Gideon. “They’ve given him the heavy-duty painkillers and they basically knocked him out.”

“Have you been here since this morning?” Sara asked.

“Of course. I didn’t want to leave him on his own too long. You know how he broods,” said Gideon.

Sara nodded and gave Gideon a long look. “Have you had anything to eat since you got here?”

Gideon thought for a moment. She’d been rather preoccupied. “Er, no,” she said.

“Okay, well at least I can fix that,” said Sara. “I’ll be back.”

Gideon frowned, but twenty minutes later, Sara had returned with what appeared to be half the contents of the cafeteria. She put it down on the small table beside Gideon, and handed her a paper cup of coffee from the tray.

“I thought you might want a bit of extra company,” she said. “Rip’s not looking chatty right now.” She picked up the two lots of sandwiches that she’d brought and offered both to Gideon. “Your choice. I like both.”

Gideon smiled at Sara and accepted one of the sandwiches. “Thank you. I was getting hungry. I just hadn’t realised.”

“I expect you’re a bit stressed right now, but you need to remember to look after yourself,” said Sara. She tucked into her own sandwich. “How’s Jonas taking all this?”

“Remarkably well,” said Gideon. “Although he isn’t aware that things have gone off the rails somewhat. Hopefully Rip will be feeling a bit better by the time he gets out of school. I’m really not sure how to handle things best for him.”

“I’m sure you’re doing fine. You know Jonas pretty well, you’ll work it out,” said Sara.

“I hope so, because Rip is relying on me to take care of the most important person in the world to him. It’s a rather daunting responsibility,” said Gideon.

“That I doubt he’d give to any of the rest of us,” said Sara, and then added, “except maybe Kendra.”

“You’ve all babysat for Jonas before,” said Gideon.

“Only for the odd evening. It’s not really the same,” said Sara. “He trusts you and that’s a big thing when it comes to Jonas. He wouldn’t do it unless he thought you could cope.”

Gideon nodded thoughtfully. She supposed that was right and last night had been fine really, if you discounted the burnt pizza. Maybe she’d take Jonas out somewhere for dinner tonight. It might be a safer option.

“Len thought he might come by this evening, but looking at Rip, I’ll tell everyone else to hold off,” said Sara, as she finished her sandwich. “But I’m still sending Len, just to make sure you’re okay.”

Gideon nodded. “I expect Ray will be here at some point. He worries more than _I_ do.”

Sara smiled. “I know, but Rip’s going to be fine. This is a really good hospital. Oliver was brought here last time he crashed his bike and they patched him up fine. Felicity says you can hardly see the scars.”

Gideon raised her eyebrows at that, and Sara gave her a knowing grin.

“I think Jonas will be disappointed if I don’t have a decent scar,” came a sleepy murmur from the bed.

Gideon looked over to see that Rip’s eyes were open and he was looking at her and Sara with a slightly puzzled expression.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” said Sara, with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” replied Rip, rubbing at his eyes.

“Do you need anything? Len’s going to visit this afternoon and I can always get him to pick stuff up,” said Sara.

“By breaking into our house again?” asked Rip, ruefully. “Thank you, but I think I can manage.”

Gideon rolled her eyes. “That is very kind of you, Sara. I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

“Okay, I need to get to work. I’ll update the baying hordes so that they don’t all bother you.”

Rip sighed. “My broken leg really isn’t that interesting.”

It was Sara’s turn to roll her eyes. “We’re just concerned about you, you idiot. You’re in the hospital. Honestly, you’re lucky that everyone isn’t here, camped in the corridor.”

Rip pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please, don’t give them ideas. It’s just a broken leg.”

“Which needed surgery,” said Sara. “Look, Nate told us what happened. You probably saved his life. You’re basically a hero.”

Rip gave her a surprised look. “I’m really not. All I did was substitute Nate getting hurt for myself getting hurt.”

Sara shrugged. “Have it your own way, but you’re still going to have to put up with all of us worrying about you.”

Gideon decided that she was fine with that. Their friends were a little unusual but they really did care about Rip. He was sort of the Dad of the entire group at times, comforting Kendra through bad break-ups, offering advice to Len and Sara about their engagement, helping Laurel work through the moral dilemmas of being a lawyer, and generally being the sensible one when it came to whatever craziness someone in the group was planning. She’d never thought about it much before now.

Sara squeezed her shoulder, as she got to her feet. “Take care of him.”

“Always," replied Gideon.

"And don't forget to look after yourself as well."

"I won't. Thank you, Sara. It was good to have some company,” Gideon said, a smile on her lips.

“Enjoy your grapes, Rip,” said Sara, with a wave towards the fruit, as she left the room.

Rip watched his visitor go. “Do you think it’s too late to tell the hospital to only let you and Jonas in to visit me?”

Gideon leaned in and kissed him, he was still too warm. “Unfortunately, I think it might be.”

The nurse reappeared. “Awwe, you kids are so cute,” she said, making Rip look daggers at her. “The cultures came back, so we can finally get you on the right antibiotics. Hopefully you’ll start to feel better soon.”

“I do hope so,” said Rip, rather forlornly.

***

The slight nausea that he’d been feeling ever since he’d woken up from surgery, worsened gradually over the course of the next few hours. He was still groggy and tired, dozing on and off. However, he was awakened by his stomach deciding that the very little that was in it, shouldn’t be.

“Gideon,” he mumbled, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Gideon grabbed the basin that one of the nurses had left earlier when he’d mentioned his nausea. They obviously had experience with what nausea usually became. She got it into position just in time to prevent him needing a change of blanket. He could feel her rubbing circles soothingly on his back. The last person to do that had probably been his mother.

“Thank you,” he murmured, miserably, as he lay back against his pillows. He might actually feel worse now than he had earlier.

“At least you got it in the bowl,” said Gideon. He saw her press the call button, and for a moment wondered why. Ah yes, he realised, probably throwing up was something they should let the medical professionals know about.

“You’re still running a temperature,” said Gideon, which didn’t surprise him at all because he still shivered occasionally.

Rip scratched at an itch on his arm, absent-mindedly. “What time is it?”

“Just after three,” replied Gideon.

“Jonas will be getting out of school soon,” said Rip. “I was really hoping I’d be better so that he wouldn’t worry.”

“He’s your son, he’s going to worry no matter what,” said Gideon. “But I’m sure Kendra will reassure him.”

Rip held out a hand towards Gideon, and she took it. “I’m sure she will, but she won’t be there tonight when you both go home. He’ll want you, Gideon.”

“I’m not very good with this sort of thing,” said Gideon. “Unwanted orphan and all that.”

“You and Jonas get on really well. Just do what seems right,” said Rip, scratching at a new itch on his neck. “It’ll be fine.”

Gideon nodded, looking down at his hand. She frowned. “When did you get this rash?”

Rip looked down too now. His arms were covered in a red rash of raised areas of skin.

“That can’t be good,” said Rip, letting out a long breath and scratching his arm again.

“I think you’re allergic to something,” said Gideon. “I’ve been reading about antibiotics and this could be a reaction to them.”

“Brilliant,” groaned Rip. “No wonder I still feel like crap.”

“Maybe Nate was right about the curse,” said Gideon. “It’s just one bit of bad luck after the other.”

Rip gave her an exasperated look. “Not you too. There is absolutely no such thing as the Curse of Prince Khufu. You’re supposed to be the logical, scientific one in this relationship.”

“I’m examining the evidence, and so far it’s looking quite good for the curse,” said Gideon, a slight smile on her lips.

Rip’s eyes narrowed. “You’re teasing me now, and that’s really not fair when I’m ill.”

The nurse stepped into the room, took one look at the rash, noted the vomiting, and pretty much confirmed Gideon’s theory. She took more blood and ordered more tests just to be sure, but it seemed fairly obvious. Rip was allergic to the new antibiotics, because apparently nothing was going to go right today. That left them with two choices, they could dose him up on antihistamines and trust that it was enough to stop the reaction from worsening, or they could change the antibiotics to another one and hope that they didn’t have the same effect and could combat the infection.

Rip decided that he would take the antihistamines rather than chance a different set of antibiotics failing to deal with the infection, despite the fact that the nurse warned that one of the side effects was that they’d make him sleepy.

“Can I wait until Jonas has arrived?” he asked. “I’d like to at least be awake when he gets here.”

“As long as you don’t get any worse, and don’t mind putting up with the itching,” said the nurse.

Rip frowned. “I’m having a little trouble catching my breath,” he admitted. His chest felt tight and it was getting rather unpleasant.

“I’ll put you on oxygen,” said the nurse. “This doesn’t seem to be a severe reaction otherwise you’d already be in anaphylaxis, so I think you should be fine. However, if it gets any worse then we’re starting the antihistamines immediately.”

He nodded his consent, and she sorted out the oxygen and nasal cannula. With that in place, it immediately began to feel easier to breathe, even if that was relative at this point.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Gideon.

“Jonas will be here soon, Gideon,” said Rip, taking a deep breath. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but, even with the oxygen, it was something of a struggle. “I just want to be awake enough to actually ask him how his day went. They can put me on the antihistamines as soon as that’s done.”

“You really are ridiculously stubborn,” she chastised him, with a frustrated look in her eyes.

“I promise, I’ll let them start the antihistamines as soon as I’ve seen Jonas,” he tried for a reassuring tone, but it was hard when breathing was so much work.

Gideon looked like she was about to continue to argue with him, but luckily Jonas arrived with Kendra before she could frame her opener.

“Hey Dad!” said Jonas, brightly, as he entered the room, before he’d got a good look at him. Rip knew he must look pretty awful, but he hadn’t realised quite how bad until he saw his son’s expression change to one of extreme concern and upset.

“I’m fine, Jonas, I promise,” he said, as strongly as he could manage. “I’m just not feeling at my best at the moment. Do I get a hug?”

Jonas nodded, his face solemn as he moved in to hug his dad. Breathing was definitely getting more difficult. He just needed to hold on until he’d reassured Jonas. His son did seem a little better once he’d actually held him, but he still didn’t look happy, and his eyes were downcast.

“Sorry I look so awful,” he said. “All that dust in the leg wound meant that it got infected, so they put me on new antibiotics and they didn’t exactly agree with me. They’re going to give me some antihistamines in a minute that’ll make me feel better, but I’ll probably fall asleep when they do. So, give me a quick rundown of your day before that happens.”

Jonas gave him a small smile. “It was just the usual. It was double maths this morning, and Jack stole Phoebe’s pencil case, so he’s in detention.”

“You were going to play games online with him, weren’t you?” asked Rip, knowing that was why this particular piece of information had been imparted. He coughed.

“Yeah,” replied Jonas, “but I’d already told him I was coming to see you, and so we were kind of cancelled anyway.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” said Rip.

“I’d rather come and see you, Dad,” said Jonas.

Rip raised his eyes. “Gideon, you should probably check his temperature. I think he just told me he’d rather see me than play computer games. Either that or I’m delirious.”

That got a small smile out of his son and Gideon. Rip coughed again.

“Okay,” said the nurse, “I think we should start the antihistamines. You’re definitely struggling more than I’d like.”

Rip nodded, deciding to save his words for Jonas. The nurse moved in and injected a syringe of medication into his IV. Jonas was looking concerned once more.

He looked at his son again, holding his hand in his. He took the deepest breath he could manage. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise you. They just need to get this infection under control and deal with my body’s decision get upset about the antibiotics I’m on. This is all pretty routine stuff as far as the doctors and nurses are concerned, and they deal with it every day.”

Jonas looked over at the nurse, and she gave him a nod in agreement. He’d have to thank her for that later.

“Please be good for Gideon,” he said. “I need you to look after her for me.”

His son rolled his eyes at the first part, but gave a more enthusiastic nod to the second. Kendra approached at that point.

“Hey there,” she said, warmly. “He’s got homework to do, but his teacher said she’d understand if it didn’t get done.”

“I don’t think there’s any point you all hanging around the hospital while I sleep,” said Rip, he could already feel the first effects of the antihistamines, making him blink tiredly. His breathing was easing too though. “You might as well all go home and come back tomorrow.”

Jonas shook his head. “Can’t we stay a bit longer?”

Gideon was nodding in agreement. “The house is a bit empty without you. I think we’d rather stay here for a while.”

Rip looked between them and gave a small shrug. “Well, it’s entirely up to you. I’m not going to be awake for much longer though.”

Jonas looked at the side table beside the bed. “You didn’t read any of your book.”

“I’ve not really had much opportunity. I’ve mostly been sleeping,” Rip pointed out.

“I could read it to you. Like you used to do when I was sick?” suggested Jonas.

Rip smiled. “I’d like that. Just don’t be upset if I fall asleep while you’re reading.”

Jonas was smiling again too now. “Okay.”

Jonas dragged over a chair and picked up the book. Rip fell asleep, listening to his son read to him, and he tried not to feel guilty about the reversal of roles.

He awoke to a dimly lit room, suggesting some time had passed, and Leonard Snart lounging in a chair in the corner. The man was reading a thick paperback that Rip realised was his.

“When did you appropriate that from my house?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Weeks ago,” said Leonard, not looking up. “Even I won’t take stuff from an invalid.”

“I’m not an invalid. I’m just not at my best right now. Although it’s good to know you have at least some standards, I suppose,” said Rip. “Did everyone go home?”

“They went to a restaurant to save Jonas from Gideon’s attempts at cooking,” said Leonard, carefully marking his place in the book by turning down the top corner of the page. Rip winced internally at the mistreatment of his book. “Homework was done, doctors reassured everyone that you’re not even close to dying, Jonas regaled us with tales of Egyptian curses, and I was left on guard duty. Also, I brought you this.” He fished in his pocket and brought out a tangled set of in-ear headphones and a small music player.

“Gideon said you hadn’t been awake much, and I figured you’re probably not up to reading if you’re on the fun drugs,” said Leonard, getting up from his chair. “I couldn’t exactly bring your record collection and gramophone to the hospital, but I thought this would do.” He handed the item to Rip.

Rip looked down at it with slight bewilderment. “Where did this come from?”

“It’s Lisa’s spare,” said Leonard. “She’ll want it back, so don’t lose it.”

Rip let out a short laugh. He had no wish to get on Lisa’s bad side. He pressed the button to turn it on, putting one of the earphones in his ear. Leonard had apparently been through his collection of records and found digital copies of his favourites. He preferred how they sounded on vinyl, it was warmer and more authentic in his opinion, but he’d definitely take this as a substitute while he was stuck in bed.

“Gideon gave me a few pointers,” said Leonard.

“Thank you, Leonard,” said Rip, meaning it from the bottom of his heart.

“Don’t mention it. In fact, please, don’t mention it. I’ve got a reputation to maintain,” said Leonard.

Rip gave him a rather amused look at that. He noted the time on the display of the music player.

“Isn’t it past visiting hours?”

“Yeah, but I’m good at not being noticed. Besides, your girlfriend didn’t want to leave you on your own, and they all really needed a break, so I volunteered. I can sleep in a chair with the best of them. It’s a well-honed skill,” said Leonard.

Rip let out a resigned sigh. “I’m afraid I have rather scared everyone.”

“Yeah, yeah. One broken leg and everyone freaks out. Mind you, at least you’re not Oliver. I remember when he crashed his bike, and the full oppressive care and concern of all the Lance, Smoak, and Queen women fell upon him. It was delicious,” said Leonard.

“I’m not sure that Oliver would agree with you,” said Rip.

 Leonard gave him one of those dangerous smiles that were his speciality. Rip yawned.

“Go back to sleep, Rip,” said Leonard. “Gideon will be back in the morning, and I’ll be here until they kick me out. I’ve got a lot of reading to do.”

Rip didn’t know what to say to that, so he settled back into his pillows and closed his eyes. He drifted off without trouble, music playing over his headphones.


	4. Netflix and Complaints from Cairo

Gideon woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t sleep. The bed was simply too big without Rip in it beside her. She wondered when she’d become so used to having his warmth to snuggle up to in the night. He always complained that she stole the covers and she’d put that habit down to being so used to sleeping alone, but it seemed that she was entirely wrong about that. She was no longer someone who defaulted to being happy sleeping alone.

She tossed and turned for a bit, but eventually gave up and moved downstairs. She got out her laptop and considered working, but she didn’t feel up to it. She turned on the television putting the volume on low and found a romcom to watch from her Netflix playlist. She’d already seen it but that wasn’t really the point, she just needed something to occupy her tired mind so that she didn’t worry about Rip.

She heard the sound of bare feet on the stairs.

“Jonas?” she asked. The boy, wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown, came into the lounge. He looked tired and rather unhappy.

“Hi Gideon,” he murmured, sleepily, and with a guilty look, as if he knew he shouldn’t be here.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked.

He nodded. She held an arm out in an invite for him to join her on the sofa.

“Me neither.”

He sat down beside her and snuggled into her side, his head resting on her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around him and gave him a squeeze. He hadn’t done this for a while, not with her or his Dad. She felt somewhat honoured.

“Worried about your Dad?”

She felt the nod.

“He’s going to be fine. They’re taking very good care of him,” said Gideon.

“He’s just so tired all the time,” said Jonas. “And he looked really ill.”

“He’s tired because that’s a side effect of the painkillers and the antihistamines, but it’s also because healing takes a lot of energy. I’m sure you can remember what it was like last time you were ill. I expect you just wanted to sleep too,” said Gideon.

She felt the nod again. “But what if something goes wrong and he doesn’t get better.”

“That’s not going to happen,” said Gideon. She finally felt as if she’d got to the root of the problem that Jonas was having. “Your Dad is going to be fine. The things which are making him tired are actually helping him. He’s really very strong, even if he doesn’t look it, and he’s going to be home in a few days’ time.”

The boy sighed against her shoulder. “I know, it’s just that he’s never been away for more than a night. I love Mom, but she doesn’t live here, and I love you too, but you don’t shamble around in your dressing gown in the morning complaining about me leaving the cereal out. Everything feels wrong.”

“Of course it does, we miss him,” said Gideon. “But we just have to be patient, and I can always tell you to tidy your room if you’re really missing it that much.”

Jonas giggled. “Thanks, but I think I'll manage until he’s back.”

Gideon gave him a quick squeeze. “Do you want to go back to bed or stay here with me?”

“Stay here with you,” said Jonas, without hesitation.

“Do you want to pick what we watch?” she asked.

Jonas nodded and she handed him the remote control. He switched them over to something more to his taste, which turned out to be “Goosebumps”. Gideon grabbed a blanket and pulled it over both of them. The two of them snuggled up together, not really watching the television at all and before long they were both snoozing.

***

Gideon awoke to her phone ringing and Jonas squashed into her side, also just waking up.

“Oh bollocks,” she said, looking at the time.

“Language,” murmured Jonas, “you’ve been around Dad too long.”         

“Yes, well if we don’t get out of the house in twenty minutes, you’re going to be late for school,” she said with some alarm. The phone was ringing because Felicity was trying to call her. She sent it to voicemail for now. She’d deal with whatever that was after she’d taken Jonas to school.

“Oh bollocks,” said Jonas.

Gideon looked at Jonas and the two of them burst into giggles.

“Do not let your Dad hear you say that!” said Gideon. “I’m already going to be in trouble for letting you sleep on the sofa.”

Jonas got up and stretched. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“Now that sounds more like your mother,” said Gideon, folding up the blanket, and trying to calculate whether she could brush her teeth in the shower and what the quickest thing to get dressed in was.

She checked the clock. Jonas liked to play games and she suspected employing some gamification might help here. “Right, I think this is going to be a time trial challenge. We need to get washed and dressed ready for school and the hospital in fifteen minutes. Ready…”

“Steady…” added Jonas, edging toward the door.

“Go!” shouted Gideon, and she let Jonas run up the stairs so that she could follow him.

They both reappeared just under fifteen minutes later, hair damp, and clothes thrown on. Gideon rifled in the cupboards and handed Jonas a cereal bar, because a real breakfast was pretty much out of the question at this point. She straightened Jonas’ shirt, they grabbed jackets and made it out of the door. She apologised profusely but Jonas made it to school on time.

Gideon did arrive at the hospital later than usual, because she decided to drop into the office. She wasn’t allowed to stay long, because Felicity and Curtis both ushered her out in short order and told her that she wasn’t to come back until Rip was at least not in the hospital anymore. She also retrieved Rip’s phone, which Nate had dropped off for her to collect.

Rip was looking a bit better when Gideon walked into his room. He was sitting up and poking at a pot of yoghurt in a very unimpressed way. The oxygen line was gone and the red rash was definitely fading. His face lit up as he saw Gideon though.

“Gideon!” he said, with a smile. “I was wondering where you’d got to.”

She smiled back, planting a kiss on the top of his head. “You’re looking much brighter.”

“My fever went down, so the consensus of the medical profession is that the antibiotics are working. The painkillers are also doing their job, and I’m between antihistamine doses,” he said. “So, I’m awake and eating before they give me the next dose and I fall asleep again.”

“The first bit is good news anyway,” said Gideon.

“Yes, I’d actually be quite good if it wasn’t for the falling asleep every time they dose me with antihistamines,” said Rip. “Still, better that than being itchy and short of breath.”

“You did scare us a little,” said Gideon.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to. And I woke up to find Leonard here and he said you’d all gone out to dinner,” said Rip, a little worriedly.

Gideon nodded. “We all sat around here for a bit until Leonard turned up, and he basically told us all to get some food. I didn’t really want to go but you weren’t showing any signs of waking up and Jonas was getting hungry. I’m glad you saw him at least.”

“Yes, and he was reading one of my books. We’re going to have to change the locks again,” said Rip, with some resignation.

“There seems little point when he’ll just steal another key, besides there have been times when it’s been quite useful,” said Gideon. “He gave you the music player?”

“Yes. I’m assuming you helped him select the music?”

Gideon nodded. “A little but he did most of it himself. He said something about remembering how bored Lisa had been.”

“Ah, oh yes, I’d forgotten about that. She had to have her appendix out. She was quite ill with it. It turned into peritonitis I think. He was worried sick, although would never have admitted to it,” said Rip. “I think he spent the entire time at her bedside. I used to use my lunch break to take him food because he was hopeless at making sure he ate.” He pushed away the yoghurt, and looked at Gideon. “How was Jonas? I know I looked terrible last night.”

“Rather upset, but I think we managed to cheer him up. I bought him a very large ice-cream and we had a chat,” said Gideon.

“Yes, I imagine the ice-cream did make him quite happy, and thank you for talking to him,” said Rip. “And he did his homework?”

“Yes, he did that here after you fell asleep. I thought it was very sweet of him to read to you,” said Gideon.

“He’s just repaying the favour,” said Rip. “I used to read to him when he was off school sick. I think he actually used to quite look forwards to it. He’s a trifle too big for it now.”

“Nonsense,” said Gideon. “He read to you and you’re much older than he is. Maybe I should have tried it last night instead of ice-cream and Netflix.” She sighed. “I am doing a terrible job of looking after your son. I’ve fed him burnt pizza one night, and ice cream the next.”

“You’re doing absolutely fine,” said Rip. “A couple of nights of junk food won’t hurt him. It’s exceptional circumstances, and we wouldn’t normally feed him junk food two nights in row. Honestly, as long as he actually gets fed, I’m not worried what he eats while I’m stuck here. I’ll be able to cook proper meals for us again when I’m home.”

“It’s not just that,” said Gideon. “I’ve shown him gory pictures of broken bones, said bad words in front of him, kept him up late on a week night, and we were nearly late for school this morning. I’ve only had to take care of him for two days.”

“Looking after a child isn’t easy, Gideon. I’ve had twelve years to get good at it, and I’m still making mistakes. I’ve done all those things at one time or another. Well, maybe not the pictures of broken bones, but probably things that were similar, and the rest of it, definitely. You know that my language in front of him is questionable at times. Did you hug him, and take him to school?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then he’ll survive. It’ll all get back to normal once they let me out of here,” said Rip.

“I don’t suppose they have any idea when that will be?” asked Gideon. “I’d much rather be able to look after you at home.”

“And I’d much rather _be_ at home,” said Rip. “The doctor who came round this morning said it would probably be another couple of days assuming everything goes according to plan and there aren’t anymore setbacks.”

Gideon nodded. “I know, it could be worse. I’d better cancel game night, though.”

“You could have it without me,” said Rip. “They’ll only whine otherwise.”

“I think they’re more concerned about you than whether they get game night,” said Gideon. “I’m still having to give everyone regular updates on your condition.”

“Well, you can tell everyone that I’m improving and that their concern is touching but not required,” said Rip.

“I shall do no such thing,” replied Gideon. “It’s nice that they’re worried about you.”

A nurse appeared. “Sorry, but it’s medication time. I’ve got a top-up of painkillers for you, and your antihistamines.”

“The combination of which will send me straight to sleep,” said Rip, with some resignation.

“At least you managed some breakfast first,” said the nurse, with a quick look at his tray. “That’s definitely a good sign.”

Gideon leaned in to kiss him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You’re not spending the day here again, are you? You really don’t need to,” he said, as the nurse administered the medication. “I’m not even good company.”

“That isn’t why I’m here and you know it,” said Gideon. “I’ve already told you that I can work here as well as anywhere.”

“I know. I just feel like I’ve already put you out enough, especially since you’re also looking after Jonas,” said Rip, blinking at her, apparently feeling the tug of the sedative effects of the medication already.

“You’re in hospital. You’re allowed to take up as much time as you need,” said Gideon.

He smiled at her again. “You really are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

A few moments later, he was asleep.

***

“You can’t cancel game night!” said Sara. “We haven’t cancelled game night since... well, a long time.” Gideon had called her so that she could get the word out to the rest of the group. She was currently stood in the corridor so that she didn’t disturb Rip’s sleep while she talked.

“I know, but they’re definitely keeping Rip in the hospital for another couple of days, so we won’t even be home,” said Gideon. “Rip did say to have it without him, but I don’t want to leave him on his own.”

“Yeah, well, I could have told him that you wouldn’t want to do that,” said Sara. “Why don’t we do game night in the hospital? I mean probably not a proper one, but we could do a lowkey version. It might cheer Rip up a bit anyway.”

Gideon shrugged, even though Sara couldn’t see her. “I’m not sure he’d think that was a good idea.”

“Then don’t tell him,” said Sara. “I’ll let everyone know to be on their best behaviour.”

Gideon smiled at the idea of that. Their friends didn’t have even a passing acquaintance with the idea of best behaviour.

“Okay, but you have to tell him that this was your idea,” said Gideon.

“Not a problem,” said Sara. “How’s he doing anyway?”

“His temperature is down and they’ve got him on the right antibiotics now. Of course he was allergic to them, because he never does anything the easy way, but they’re giving him antihistamines as well. They send him to sleep but there’s not much to be done about that.”

“Yeah, Len mentioned that when he came home from the hospital last night,” said Sara. “That’s got to suck.”

“He’s definitely a bit unhappy about the entire thing. He likes his personal space and really hospitals are the worst places for that. Still, he managed to eat breakfast this morning, which was an improvement on yesterday. I feel at least we’re on the right track now.”

“That’s good. I can’t make it in to visit today, but Ray said he’d be over later and Laurel was going to come in this evening,” said Sara. “We decided that having too many of us at once might get a bit overwhelming when he’s not feeling well.”

“Good idea,” said Gideon. “He keeps on trying to tell me to go to work, but I know how he gets when he’s left alone.”

Gideon turned around in the corridor as she spoke and saw Nate walking towards her a folder in one hand. He gave her a small wave as he approached.

“Anyway, I’d better go,” said Gideon, “Nate’s here. Say thanks to Leonard again. It was good to know that he was here last night.”

“Of course,” said Sara. “I’ll speak to you later.”

Gideon hung up the phone and turned to Nate. “Hello, you. I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning. I’m not sure that Rip’s awake. They’ve got him on antihistamines and they have the side effect of making him sleep all the time.”

 “I can wait. I need to speak to him.” She realised that Nate was looking worried, and it occurred to her that this might be something serious.

“What’s the matter?” asked Gideon.

“The Cairo Museum of Antiquities is trying to sue us,” said Nate. “The statue was damaged when it fell and they’re expecting compensation. They’re saying that Rip didn’t follow the directions for moving the statue correctly. He didn’t ensure that the lifting gear was set up correctly and they’re basically blaming him personally for the entire thing.”

“What?” asked Gideon, with shock. “That’s not true. Rip’s attention to detail is meticulous.”

“I know, but someone made a mistake somewhere, and they’re looking for someone to blame. To be honest so are the museum board,” Nate paused. “Gideon, Rip could lose his job over this.”

Gideon was speechless for a moment, and then she mentally switched gears. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” She pulled up Laurel’s contact details on her phone and pressed the call button.

“Gideon, how are you doing?” asked Laurel, as she answered the phone.

“I’m well, thank you,” said Gideon. “I need to ask a favour of you in a professional capacity.”

“Oh? Okay. Is this for your company?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” she said and took a deep breath. “The Cairo Museum of Antiquities wants to sue Rip for the damage to the statue that fell on him. They’re trying to say it’s his fault. Nate’s here at the hospital now.”

“Right, first of all, don’t panic. I doubt they can sue Rip personally even if they might name him in the complaint. But I bet Nate’s got a bunch of scary looking legal documents, because they’ll want to make it clear that they mean business,” said Laurel.

Gideon moved the phone away, covering the mic with her hand. “Laurel wants to know if you have documents from the Cairo Museum?”

Nate nodded and showed Gideon the folder he was carrying. She could see that they were written in dense text, very official looking and accompanied by a letter on headed notepaper.

“Yes, he has several important looking documents,” said Gideon.

“Okay, I need to read the complaint and talk to Nate, and Rip, too, if you think he’s up to it,” said Laurel.

“He’s doing better but he could definitely do without the stress of legal action,” said Gideon. “But he’ll want to know about this, and he’ll just be angry later if we don’t tell him right away.”

“I think it might just be easiest if I come down to the hospital. I’ll be there within the hour. Tell Nate not to go anywhere until I get there,” said Laurel. “And try not to worry. We’ll get this all sorted out.”

“I hope so,” said Gideon. “I really appreciate you dropping everything for us.”

“You know I thrive on cases like this. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” said Laurel, and hung up.

Gideon looked at Nate. “I think we’d better go and break the news to Rip.”

Nate didn’t look at all happy about that, and Gideon felt the same way as she turned to go back into Rip’s room. They entered to find Rip awake and trying to make the controls for the bed work.

“Here, let me,” said Gideon, taking the control and raising the head of the bed so that Rip could lean back against his pillows. The medication was still making Rip a bit more befuddled than usual.

“Thank you,” sighed Rip, and then noticed his other visitor. “Nate. Thank you for returning my phone.”

“Not a problem,” replied Nate. “How are you doing?”

Rip ran a hand through his hair, attempting to straighten it out but actually just succeeding in making it worse.

“Better than I was,” said Rip. “Mainly I’m tired and fed up with being stuck here.”

Nate nodded and nervously glanced at Gideon, who looked expectantly back at him.

Rip gave them a moment as they shuffled their feet. Then he rolled his eyes. “Would one of you, please, just spit it out? I can tell that something’s going on, so there’s no point in just standing there looking worried.”

“The Cairo Museum of Antiquities are suing us,” said Nate, handing Rip the papers.

“What?!” said Rip, with alarm. He took the folder that Nate handed him and began leafing through the documents.

“They’ve had time to examine the statue of Prince Khufu and they found some damage, sustained when it fell,” said Nate.

“The conservators can fix this,” said Rip, looking at the diagrams of the damage that accompanied the legal documents. “I doubt anyone will even know it happened. I assume you were careful with the clean up?”

“Yeah, the conservators were standing right there, so I had them check the statue and stabilise the damage before we did anything. I think you missed that bit because they’d given you the really good painkillers by that point,” said Nate, a small smile coming to his lips briefly. “I don’t think that’s our biggest problem though. Read the front page.”

Rip turned back to the first page, and Gideon could almost see the moment he got to the bit where they accused him of failing to secure and move the statue correctly. His body language stiffened and he straightened his back a little. He was taking this personally.

“So, they’re saying that I didn’t do my job. Well, that’s just great,” said Rip, with annoyance. “I assume the Museum Board are up in arms too?”

Nate nodded.

“Are they asking for my resignation yet?” said Rip, with a total lack of emotion. Gideon knew that tactic too, it meant he was already blaming himself.

“Not yet,” said Nate. “But they want a full investigation, and they want me to head it, which isn’t a good sign.”

Rip sighed, resting the folder down on his lap. “Yes, usually that would be my job, but if my conduct is being investigated… well, I can’t very well investigate myself.”

“I called Laurel and she’s on her way,” said Gideon.

“Why did you call Laurel?” asked Rip, with a baffled look.

“Because she’s a lawyer and you need one,” said Gideon. Surely that was obvious. “I can’t believe that they have the temerity to sue you, the man who had a statue fall on him, for the damage the fall caused to the statue, and then blame you for it! We’re not letting that stand. Honestly, they’re going to wish they hadn’t picked this fight.”

“Whilst I do appreciate your righteous indignation on my behalf,” said Rip, looking at her with undisguised love and admiration, “perhaps we should get all the facts first. Maybe, I did make a mistake.”

Nate laughed. “Rip, you’re the most ridiculously careful person that I know. In all the years I’ve worked with you, I’ve never known you to make a mistake when someone’s safety was on the line. I watched you triple check those transport instructions, and then double check that you’d sent them on to the lifting guys properly. I remember rolling my eyes when you got me to read them back to you.”

“Well, yes, because otherwise people get crushed by large, basalt statues,” said Rip, with a wave in the general direction of his leg. “Clearly something went wrong, or else I wouldn’t be stuck in this bed with a broken leg, unable to think properly because I’m still high on painkillers and half asleep thanks to the soporific effects of antihistamines.”

“You’re less high than you were,” said Nate. “I mean you’re forming complete sentences without slurring now.”

“That is not comforting, Nate,” said Rip, with an annoyed look. “And when was I slurring?”

Nate wisely didn’t answer.

Gideon stepped over to Rip, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. If I know you, then you’ve got the paperwork chain and everything will be filed in triplicate.”

“Assuming we can find the filing cabinet in his office,” said Nate. “How can you be so particular about some things and still have an office that looks like it’s an extension of the museum storeroom?”

“An untidy desk is the sign of a tidy mind,” said Rip. “And I like my clutter. I know where to find things and that’s all that’s required.”

“Then perhaps you could tell _me_ where to find things?” suggested Nate.

“Hey!” said a cheery voice from the doorway, and everyone turned around to find Ray standing there with a large stuffed bear under an arm, a “Get Well Soon” balloon floating on a string in one hand, and box of donuts in his other. Ray looked a little surprised by the solemn looks on everyone’s faces. “Did I come at a bad time?”

Gideon shook her head, smiling at her friend. “Of course not, come on in.”

“You’re not making him work are you?” asked Ray, looking at the papers on Rip’s lap. He handed Rip the balloon, who took it out of sheer reflex, from what Gideon could see, with a puzzled look on his face.

“Unfortunately, this can’t wait,” said Rip. “Why am I holding a balloon?”

“I thought it was more interesting than a card,” said Ray, “and this is Gary, the Get Well Bear.” He handed Rip the large stuffed bear. “And I decided that you might also be fed up with hospital food and need some junk food.”

Gideon relieved Rip of the balloon and tied it to the end of the bed, but left the bear. She thought he looked quite sweet with it. It came just up to his shoulder, had a rather maniacal grin on its face and was holding a heart that said: “Get Well” on it. It was totally hideous and Gideon knew Rip had hated it the moment he’d set eyes on it, which was why she wasn’t going to do anything about moving it yet.

“Er, thank you,” said Rip, in a tone which suggested that he didn’t know quite what to reply. “Very thoughtful of you,” he added.

“So, what’s going on? Why all the grim looks?” asked Ray, putting the donuts down on the table at the end of the bed.

“The Cairo Museum are suing us for compensation because the statue that broke Rip’s leg was damaged by the fall,” said Nate.

“No way,” said Ray, scandalised.

“Yes, way,” replied Rip, without a hint of emotion. “Apparently, I didn’t ensure the statue was moved correctly.”

“That’s a load of rubbish,” said Gideon. “You know you did. We just talked about it.”

“And yet I still have a broken leg,” said Rip, sullenly.

“Maybe this is all part of the curse,” said Ray, with a shrug, and a quick look at Nate.

Rip gave him an extremely dark look, and thumped his head back against the pillows. “Bloody hell, not you too! There is no such thing as the Curse of Prince Khufu. There is no such thing as a cursed Egyptian artefact in general.”

“Oh, I’m guessing that none of you saw the frontpage of the Times today…” said Ray. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a folded-up newspaper.

The headline was something about politics that none of them particularly cared about, but the second story at the bottom of the page proclaimed: “The Curse of Prince Khufu Strikes Again”.

“What the hell?” said Rip, with alarm.

“You get a mention too,” said Ray. He read out loud. “Museum Director, Rip Hunter, was taken to hospital with a broken leg after the statue of Prince Khufu, a Pharaoh of the Egyptian Middle Kingdom Period, fell during exhibition set up and injured him. The basalt statue, which weighs just under a ton, was winched off his leg by the fire department, and he was then taken to the hospital by ambulance, where it’s believed he is resting comfortably.”

“Like hell I am,” murmured Rip. “Certainly not with you lot around.”

Ray continued. “Prince Khufu’s statue is said to carry a curse which will fall upon anyone who tries to steal it.”

“See!” said Rip, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t attached to the drip. “Even if there actually was a curse, I wasn’t trying to steal the damn thing so why would it affect me?”

Nate shrugged. “I’m not sure ancient curses know what your intentions are.”

Gideon took Rip’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Ignore them, they’re just winding you up.”

“At least you’re on my side,” said Rip, lifting Gideon’s hand so that he could kiss her knuckles.

“Always,” replied Gideon, and she got a smile out of him for that.

Laurel knocked on the door frame. “Hi everyone, I hear you need a lawyer.”

“Apparently so,” replied Rip. “And if you mention the bloody curse as well then I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Curse?” asked Laurel.

“The statue that broke Rip’s leg is supposed to be cursed,” said Nate.

Laurel raised her eyes. “Okay, well the law doesn’t recognise ancient Egyptian curses as a mitigating factor in compensation cases, so that’s not going to help us.” She turned her attention to Rip. “How are you?”

“Physically, the leg’s a bit better today, so I’m mostly tired, still slightly out of it on pain meds and disappointingly immobile. Mentally, I think I’ve moved on from annoyed at all this to thoroughly livid that I’m being accused of something that I’m fairly sure I didn’t do,” said Rip.

Gideon smiled at that. When Rip was angry he wasn’t blaming himself, and that was a good sign. It also meant he was planning to fight back.

“Show me the complaint,” said Laurel, holding out a hand. “Let’s see what we’re up against.”

Rip handed over the folder, and looked at the clock. “We’ve got about an hour before I’m due my next painkillers and antihistamines. Pass me a donut, I might as well eat while we work on this.”

Gideon grinned, and reached for the box that Ray had brought. This was going to be interesting, and she rather pitied the Cairo Museum of Antiquities for what was probably about to happen to them.


	5. Calculations and Conclusions

Rip just needed to survive one more evening of hospital food and being poked and prodded by the medical staff, and then hopefully, assuming no further setbacks, they were planning to let him go home. The nurse thought he’d probably be on his way by lunch time tomorrow, and he was due to get his new plaster cast put on first thing. He’d been up and practicing on his crutches today with variable levels of success, and he felt utterly terrible at first. The nurse had assured him that was completely normal after being stuck in bed for nearly four days.

However, he still had visitors to deal with this evening, which promised to be rather taxing.

“Who’s your friend?” asked Sara, as she barrelled into his hospital room, smirking at the stuffed bear on Rip’s bed. She had rather a large number of bags with her. Leonard followed her in, situating himself in the only comfortable chair in the room

“He’s adorable,” said Leonard, with undisguised sarcasm.

Rip gave both of them a look of death. “Ray’s idea of a joke,” said Rip. “At least, I hope it was his idea of a joke.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” said Gideon, who had been fluffing up Rip’s pillows.

“I suppose so,” said Rip.

Something was going on and he wasn’t sure what it was, or that he was going to like it. Gideon had persuaded him to comb his hair and got him into a fresh pair of pyjamas. Jonas was also dressed rather tidily, and now that he examined his son more closely, he had that look he got when he was hiding something.

He groaned, looking up at Gideon. “They’re all coming here, aren’t they?”

“Yes, sorry about that, but they sort of insisted,” said Gideon. “Besides with all the stuff with the museum, we thought you could do with some fun.”

Rip sighed. “You know I’m going to fall asleep half way through. I’m barely awake as it is.”

“That’s fine, we’re letting you be on Gideon’s team since you’re more a hinderance than help at the moment,” said Leonard. Rip raised his eyebrows at that, feeling it was a little unfair. He was hardly on any of the strong pain medication anymore, and he was beginning to feel his brain was returning to normal function.

Jonas leaned in to give his Dad a hug. “And we get to be on the same team too,” said his son.

Rip smiled. “In that case, I think we stand quite a good chance of winning.”

Nate, Kendra, Ray, Lily and Jax all appeared together, carrying more bags. Sara was getting out a vast array of food and drink, and someone had brought a picnic table to set it all up on. He didn’t even see that arrive. Felicity, Cisco, Lisa, Thea and Oliver’s arrival made Rip wonder if it was possible for anyone else to actually fit into his room, which wasn’t large. It turned out that it was entirely possible, as Laurel, Barry and Iris proved. He wondered what the medical staff were going to make of all this. He was absolutely certain that having Game Night in his room was against hospital regulations.

His friends were all circulating around his bed and he found himself being brought food and a drink (non-alcoholic of course), and then people seemed to almost take turns to stand at his bedside and chat. Gideon was perched on the bed next to him and Jonas was helping Sara pour drinks into plastic cups. Rip realised that he was actually surprisingly okay with all of this. It was sort of nice that his friends had all come together to keep him company.

“Okay,” said Sara, quieting everyone, “keep it down or we will all be thrown out before we even begin. So, we’re all here because Rip decided to play hero and save Nate from the “Curse of Prince Khufu”, or, you know, stop him from being squashed by a statue that weighed nearly a ton. And the good news is that he’s being allowed home tomorrow, so this is kind of a celebration of that too.”

A small cheer went up at the news of his imminent release, and he raised his plastic cup in a salute at their appreciation.

“In honour of our injured hero, he gets to pick his team and there are no restrictions on who can be on it,” continued Sara.

“Well I guess whoever’s on the other team is losing then…” said Jax, with a shake of his head. “Rip, Jonas and Gideon together? I don’t fancy anyone’s chances against that.”

Rip was actually feeling just a little embarrassed by the entire thing. “This really isn’t necessary. I fear that both my heroism and my injury have been somewhat exaggerated.”

“Just shut up and let us spoil you,” said Laurel.

“Yeah,” said Thea. “It can’t be much fun being stuck here.”

Lisa was nodding as if she understood, and to be fair she probably did. Oliver looked equally understanding.

“Well, at least it isn’t for much longer,” said Rip.

“How did it go with the crutches?” asked Kendra.

“Mixed success,” said Rip.

“Don’t ask,” added Gideon, rather unsuccessfully hiding a grin. There had been several moments when the crutches had splayed out and he rather resembled a baby deer trying to take its first steps.

“Dad gets a plaster cast tomorrow, so everyone can sign it,” said Jonas, with the kind of enthusiasm that only kids could properly achieve.

“I have the perfect thing to write,” said Leonard, with a slow smile. Rip was already worried.

“No swear words,” said Gideon.

Rip raised an eyebrow at that.

“What? You have to wear it to work, and possibly court,” said Gideon.

That brought the hilarity to halt for a moment.

“Sorry,” said Gideon. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“What’s the story with that?” asked Oliver. “I mean we know you. You wouldn’t make a mistake like that.”

Rip shrugged. “Nate’s looking into it. We can’t really say much more. I know I did everything right, and Nate double checked my work.”

“And they have the best lawyer in town on their side,” said Laurel, with a self-assured smile.

“Well, in that case, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” said Oliver, looking at Laurel with knowing appreciation.

“Did all of you see the bit in the paper?” said Ray, getting out the cutting he’d made from the Times and, of course, was now carrying around with him. Rip sighed, he really didn’t need to be reminded of this. “Rip got his name in it and everything. Although I’m pretty sure you didn’t write your thesis on the American Civil War.”

“What?” asked Rip, snatching the piece of paper out of Ray’s hand. “That is just typical.”

Nate was already laughing. “I guess they looked up the museum and got our specialties muddled up. More bad luck. Maybe…”

“Don’t you dare say it!” said Rip, looking straight at Nate.

In fact, it wasn’t Nate who said it. All his friends chorused it. “It’s the Curse!”

The entire room dissolved into laughter. Gideon reached over and took the cutting from Rip. Their friends were getting out games and working out who was on which team, but Gideon was examining the picture that accompanied the article.

“What is it?” asked Rip, “is everything okay?”

Gideon looked very thoughtful. “Where did they get that detail about how much the statue weighs?”

“It’s in the statue’s description, which is part of the publicity material, so probably from there,” said Rip. It was something else that he’d overseen. Usually that wasn’t really part of his job, but the Egypt Exhibition had been so huge and high profile that he’d personally signed off on everything.

“And where did that come from?” asked Gideon.

Rip shrugged. “I passed all the information to the PR department.”

“So, it came from the Cairo museum,” said Gideon.

“Yes, they gave us the dimensions of the statue so that we could make all the arrangements for lifting it and displaying it. It weighs just less than a tonne and is 9ft tall.” Rip wasn’t quite sure where Gideon was going with this, but he knew how intelligent the woman he loved was. She seemed to be forming an idea.

“Then they gave you the wrong dimensions,” said Gideon. “Look at the picture. Let’s assume the man in the picture is average height. It’s quite a simple matter to calculate the height of the statue from there, and it’s what, about half a metre across the base? We can also estimate that basalt has roughly the same density as stone.” She got out her phone.

“Put that phone away!” Thea shouted, and there were several other exclamations. Phones were against the rules on game night. Gideon held up a finger, to shush them as she looked up whatever it was that she needed, before putting it down again.

“Basalt has a density of 3.0g/cm3 which would make that statue weigh…” her eyes got a far-off look. “Actually, a fair bit more than a tonne. So, if the Cairo museum told you that it was less…”

“It’s them who got the weight wrong and how to lift it,” said Rip. “Did you do that maths in your head?”

“Of course, it was faster than using the calculator on my phone,” said Gideon.

Rip reached up a hand and threaded it into Gideon’s hair with love in his eyes. He gently pulled her in to meet his lips. The kiss was sweet and perfect. He ignored the yell of “get a room” from Cisco, and touched his forehead to Gideon as they broke apart.

“You are amazing,” he said, with total sincerity.

“Assuming that I’m right,” she replied.

“Which you are, because it’s you,” said Rip. “And your ability to do mental arithmetic is not the only reason that you’re amazing.”

He actually hadn’t been aware of just how much the Cairo business was worrying him until now. He suddenly felt as if a black cloud had lifted and there was a glimmer of sunshine coming through. Gideon might have given them a way to beat this.

“Are we playing or are you two going to smooch all evening?” asked Lisa.

“They do this all the time,” said Jonas, with slight disgust in his long-suffering tone.

“Well, I think they’re cute,” said Iris.

Gideon and Rip just smiled at the assembled group.

“Gideon may just have solved the problem of the statue of Prince Khufu,” said Rip.

“She did?” asked Nate, exchanging a glance with Laurel.

“It’s just a matter of maths,” said Gideon. “It’s really quite simple to calculate the weight of a statue, even from a picture.” She handed the picture to Laurel. “I think the Cairo museum sent Rip the wrong weight for the statue. We’d need to measure the actual statue to be sure, but I’m certain that Nate could arrange that.”

“Yes, it shouldn’t be a problem. We can get it done tomorrow,” said Nate.

“Good,” said Rip, “now that’s out of the way. I believe I have a game night to win.”

“Dream on, lover boy,” said Leonard. “People who are cursed don’t win game night.”

“Hey, we’re on his team too,” said Jonas, indignantly.

“Ooh, scary!” said Leonard, with a smile at the boy.

The evening proceeded on to some actual games. A nurse only had to ask them to keep the noise down once, which may or may not have been because Lisa was having a loud argument with her brother over who was better at embezzling money from the bank during Monopoly. The siblings didn’t seem to care that no one was supposed to be embezzling at all or that they weren’t even playing Monopoly. Rip was somewhat surprised that no one had come in sooner to throw everyone out. He had a feeling that Ray had used his position again to give them some extra leeway. The nursing staff would probably be glad to see the back of Rip and his strange friends.

The end of visiting hours brought everything to halt, but Rip was also dosed up again on antihistamines and painkillers, so was close to falling asleep in any case. He’d won an unusually large number of the games that they’d played and he was beginning to suspect that certain members of the group had been throwing things in his favour. But he had decided that he was going to ignore the fact that they let him win, and the fact that it suggested that they seemed to think he was incapable of managing it on his own merit. He decided to just be amused that they felt he needed cheering up that much.

Everyone pitched in to tidy up, not letting Gideon or Jonas lift a finger to help. They’d taken up position, one sat on either side of his bed so that he could get an arm around each of them. His two favourite people were snuggled up to him, and he felt pleasantly sleepy, mostly pain-free, perfectly warm, happy and loved.

“I actually rather enjoyed that,” said Rip, tiredly.

“I knew you would once you let yourself relax a little,” said Gideon.

“Home tomorrow,” he murmured, and he didn’t get any further in that thought because his eyes closed and then he was sleeping, soundly.

***

Amazingly, nothing else went wrong to keep him in the hospital and he was sent to get his plaster cast put on, given follow-up appointments for physiotherapy and orthopaedics, and told he could go home on his crutches. Unfortunately, they’d also outlined to him just how long it might take his leg to heal, and he could expect to be in plaster for at least three months and then have a walking boot for another three. He would need his crutches all that time, and probably have to use a cane for up to a year after that. He’d rather been thinking of getting out of hospital as the end of his troubles, whereas he was beginning to believe that it might just be the start.

Gideon and Jonas helped him get dressed and ready to leave. Getting proper trousers over the new cast proved difficult so he was in sweats for the time being. He had three different bottles of pills which all needed to be taken several times a day, but were at least clearly labelled. He was still on antibiotics, except now in pill form and of course, the hated antihistamines, also now pills rather than injections into his IV. The final bottle contained painkillers, which he still needed unfortunately, and in fact, moving had made his leg hurt more.

They made him ride in a wheelchair down to the car park, his newly plastered leg carefully positioned on the footrest. He felt a little foolish, being pushed along, but he was secretly quite grateful that he didn’t have to demonstrate his rather woeful ability with his crutches. Then Gideon helped him hop the two steps to the car, before returning the wheelchair to the hospital.

“I feel so pathetic,” he confessed, as he tried to get comfortable.

“Don’t,” said Gideon, as she prepared to drive them home. “How would you feel if our positions were reversed?”

“Less pathetic,” replied Rip.

“That’s not what she meant, Dad,” said Jonas, with the exasperated tone that Gideon always told him was quite familiar to her. Rip apparently used the exact same one.

“You would be fussing over me and making sure that I had everything I needed. I know what you’re like when one of us is ill,” said Gideon.

“Yes, but I really prefer to be the one doing the looking after,” said Rip.

“I know, but I’m sure we’ll cope,” said Gideon, and they set off for home.

Rip felt every bump in the road. He was starting to think there was something to be said for IV painkillers that just knocked him out completely. However, he had never been more glad to see his house. The single step through the front door proved to be about as much as his current expertise on crutches could manage and he nearly slipped, but Gideon was there to catch him.

“I’m never going to manage the stairs,” he sighed. “I’ll just have to sit down and shuffle up. God only knows how I’m going to navigate the museum.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when you’re back at work, which isn’t going to be for at least another week,” said Gideon firmly.

“I can’t take another week off,” said Rip, plaintively.

“I was there when the doctor told you not to do too much too soon,” replied Gideon. Rip suspected he would regret letting Gideon sit in on that particular conversation. “And how tired you’re going to be while it’s healing. So, no, you’re not going back to work for at least another week. Nate has everything under control.”

“Does he? Because last I heard I was still being investigated for incompetence,” said Rip, already a little out of breath from the exertion of using his crutches.

“Yes, he really does, and as soon as they realise there’s nothing to investigate, everything will be fine,” said Gideon.

“I’m fairly sure I’m the one that usually says that to you,” said Rip.

“Welcome to the new state of affairs where I get to reassure you for a change,” replied Gideon. “Now, come and sit on the sofa. I’ve got you all set up with pillows and you can elevate your leg on the coffee table.”

“We’re getting food delivered for dinner,” said Jonas, with a bit of excitement. “Can we have burgers?”

“Have you eaten anything but junk while I’ve been in the hospital?” Rip asked his son as he made his way slowly to the sofa. “I’m home so I’ll cook.”

He sat down heavily, collapsing into the inviting nest of cushions that Gideon had thoughtfully created for him. He looked up to find Gideon and Jonas giving him a very unimpressed look.

“What?”

“You can’t walk without crutches, which means you can’t carry things. How are you going to cook?” asked Gideon.

“Oh,” said Rip, his face falling. He propped his crutches against the sofa, and carefully pulled his leg up onto the coffee table. “You have a point… And I’m just beginning to realise that I’m not going to be able to do quite a lot of things while my leg heals.”

Gideon sat down beside him and put an arm around him, and for once, he leaned into her and put his head on her shoulder. Jonas perched on the arm of the sofa, regarding them both with a little worry. Rip wished he felt up to putting on a front for the both of them, but his leg was hurting, he was tired and he was really feeling his lack of mobility.

“Jonas, I think your Dad needs cheering up,” said Gideon. “Could you get the ice-cream?”

Jonas grinned and dashed off to the kitchen.

“Ice-cream is not going to solve the problem,” said Rip, with a sigh, “as much as I enjoy it and wish it would.”

“Moping won’t solve it either. Now, where’s that Hunter backbone gone? Jonas and I will be here for you whenever you need us, and so will all our friends,” said Gideon. “You’ve only got twelve weeks of plaster. After that things will get much better.”

“Twelve long weeks of lugging around this thing,” he said, waving a hand towards the cast on his leg.

“Honestly, you’re quite determined to be miserable, aren’t you? Just let us look after you. I still remember you coming over to my flat when I had that horrible cold before we started dating.”

“Whilst we were in complete denial, you mean,” said Rip.

“Well, if you want to put it that way,” said Gideon. “What I was trying to say before you rudely interrupted was that it made me feel better to have you there. I felt better just because you were with me. I really hope that this time I get to be the one to make you feel better.”

Rip leaned up for a moment and looked at Gideon. He entwined his fingers with hers. “You _do_ make me feel better. Never doubt that. Every moment that you’re with me, you brighten my existence, and I love you for it.”

Gideon beamed at him. “I love you too,” she said, and kissed him.

“Gross!” said Jonas, as he came back with a tray stacked full of ice-cream, possibly all the spoons that they owned, and three bowls. He put everything down on the bit of the coffee table that didn’t have Rip’s foot on it. The kiss came to an end, and Rip would swear that Gideon was blushing just a little.

“Shuffle up,” said Rip to Gideon, and they made room for Jonas. “Is that every single tub of ice-cream the shop had?”

“I thought you might need a bit of a pick-me-up, so, Jonas and I went shopping for some supplies,” said Gideon.

“We also got jelly beans,” said Jonas, as he stuck a spoon into the double chocolate chip and dolloped some into a bowl.

Rip smiled. Jelly beans were one of his big weaknesses, and it was nice that they’d got him his favourite sweets. Jonas handed him a bowl which contained several scoops of various flavours, and he hadn’t even needed to ask which ones his dad would want.

“Thank you,” he said, and settled back on the sofa to eat ice-cream with his family. He realised that he might actually feel a little better after all.

***

“No tea?” asked Rip, with disappointment evident in his voice, as Gideon placed the drinks down on the table.

“You had tea this morning,” pointed out Gideon. “You know the rules. One cup of tea a day only. Caffeine reduces calcium absorption, and you need all the calcium you can get. Drink your milk.”

Rip let out an annoyed huff of breath. He and Gideon were sat in a quiet coffee shop across the road from the Courthouse. She had a nice cup of coffee, whereas he had a glass of cold milk. This was because he needed both the protein and the calcium, according to Gideon’s extensive research into the best diet for a healing broken bone. They were due in court shortly and he really could have done with a nice cup of tea to fortify him, however Gideon had proven to be intractable when it came to his health. There was absolutely no way that he would be able to talk her round, at least not in the time available to him.

Rip had propped his plaster cast on the only other chair available to keep it elevated, which led to a lot less pain overall and helped the circulation in his foot. The cast was now covered in signatures from their friends, who had at least observed Gideon’s no swearing rule, if only for Jonas’ sake. Leonard had scrawled “it’s going tibia okay”, which hurt Rip every time he looked at it, because it was just such a terrible pun.

He saw Laurel enter the coffee shop, which was something of a worry, because he would have expected her to be in court already. She spotted the two of them and came over.

“Laurel,” he said, going to move his leg so that she could sit down.

She waved to stop him. “Leave it, I’ll grab another one.”

“Let me,” said Gideon and borrowed a chair from another table.

“Please, don’t tell me that there are more problems with the case,” said Rip.

“The opposite,” said Laurel, with a smile, taking her seat. “Cairo have dropped the case.”

“Oh, thank god,” said Rip, leaning back in his seat slightly. “Although they did leave it to the absolute last minute.”

Gideon’s eyes widened. “That is quite eleventh hour. How dramatic of them.”

“I think they were still hoping that they had a case, but apparently Dr Minerva decided that she wouldn’t be part of it and resigned this morning,” said Laurel, with a shrug.

“Ah, that would rather put paid to any plans they had of refuting our analysis,” said Rip.

After presenting Cairo with the evidence of their miss-measuring of the statue of Prince Khufu, the museum had countered with their own calculations and measurements. Rip and Nate had disputed the validity of those, so both museums had finally paid for an independent consultant to come in and do more measurements and calculations. Once that was done and Cairo had been proved to be wrong, the only thing they had left to argue with was that the statue was somehow hollow or not as dense as it was expected to be. The Cairo Museum had drafted in Dr Minerva to give her opinion on that, but it seemed that she concurred with Rip and Nate, the statue was made of basalt and totally solid.

“Exactly,” said Laurel, “so it’s all done with. I’ve just got to finish up some of the paperwork and then it really will be over. Congratulations, you’re no longer being sued.”

“Thank you, Laurel. Your efforts on my behalf have been much appreciated,” said Rip, with sincerity.

“I’m just happy it turned out to be an easy fix this time,” said Laurel.

“This is doubly good news, because it also means that the museum board can’t fire me unless they really want to make a fuss.”

Gideon reached out for his hand across the table. “That _is_ good news. We should celebrate.”

“Does that mean that I get a cup of tea?” he asked, hopefully.

Gideon gave him an indulgent look. “Oh, alright then. Just this once.” She glanced at Laurel. “Would you like a coffee? The lattes here are quite good.”

“Yes, please,” said Laurel. “Since I don’t have to be in court I’ve got a little free time before I’m needed back at the office.”

She went back to the counter to get Rip a cup of tea and Laurel her latte.

“How’s your recovery going?” asked Laurel.

Rip shrugged. “Slowly. I’m finding the lack of mobility rather annoying, especially not being able to drive, but Gideon is looking after me. In fact, she’s doing so much for me that I feel rather guilty.”

“I’m sure you don’t need to,” said Laurel. “You’d do the same for her if your positions were reversed.”

“She said the exact same thing,” said Rip, watching his girlfriend collecting their drinks. “At least we’ve worked out a way that I can cook now. I’ve got a high stool for the kitchen that I can perch on instead of having to lean on my crutches. It means I can free up my hands, even if I still need someone to help with moving things around for me. It’s a bit awkward, but it does work. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without her and Jonas to help me at the moment. Although Jonas is away this week.”

“Where is he?” asked Laurel.

“He’s on an adventure week, doing a number of horribly dangerous outdoor sports. The irony being that I was worried he was going to break something,” said Rip. “Instead, I didn’t leave the museum and ended up with a broken leg.”

Laurel gave him a small smile. "I bet he's having a great time."

Gideon returned with their drinks. She leaned down and gave Rip a quick kiss before she took her seat again.

“Ah, tea,” he said, with enthusiasm.

Laurel and Gideon both exchanged amused looks.

“You’re so British sometimes,” said Laurel, smirking.

“There’s nothing wrong with remembering my roots,” said Rip.

“When are you back at the museum?” asked Laurel.

“When he stops falling asleep at inopportune moments,” said Gideon.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me that I need to sleep to heal. And I’ve been in to the museum a few times, I’m just not up to being there full time yet. I’ve been working from home in the meantime. It’s rather a pain but it’s better than trying to negotiate all the steps with my crutches and I can keep the hours I want,” said Rip.

“Has Nate stopped going on about the stupid curse yet?” asked Laurel.

“Yes, after I threatened to erase all mention of him from the Museum website and the payroll database,” said Gideon.

“You wouldn’t!” said Laurel, with mock horror.

“She definitely would,” said Rip, sipping his tea.

“Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time,” said Gideon. “Although I did fix everything later.”

“The exhibition is only on for another three weeks,” said Rip. “After that, Prince Khufu is going back to Egypt and hopefully everyone will forget about the damn thing and its stupid non-existent curse.”

“Then we should probably make sure we go round the exhibition before then,” said Gideon.

“You haven’t been?” asked Laurel.

“There hasn’t been time. Jonas wanted to go and see the statue that broke his Dad’s leg, but we’ve all been quite busy with hospital appointments, court cases and just living to be honest,” said Gideon.

“Everything takes twice as long at the moment, even mundane tasks like taking a shower. I have to put the waterproof cover over the cast, and then get properly balanced on my good leg. For the first two weeks Gideon wouldn’t even let me shower on my own!” Rip was still slightly put out by that.

Laurel giggled.

“That wasn’t what I meant!” said Rip, quickly.

Gideon stifled her own giggle, but gave Rip a sympathetic look. Laurel sipped her coffee.

“Maybe we should have a group outing,” Laurel said. “I bet everyone would enjoy that. I’ll send round a text and see when we can all do it. You can do the tour guide thing for us.”

Gideon was nodding with enthusiasm. Rip let out a sigh. He should have seen this coming.

“Fine, I suppose it could be fun,” said Rip. “Just remind everyone that I still have to work there after you’ve left.”

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” said Gideon.

Laurel was already writing out the text message.

***

The museum visit was actually reasonably without incident. They managed to get there just before the exhibition finished its run, and Jonas was thoroughly over excited by the entire thing. Apparently he quite enjoyed the idea of getting to see mummies like the ones in the horror movies he enjoyed so much. Rip’s friends were happy to encourage him in that too, much to his chagrin.

They borrowed a museum wheelchair and, although Rip protested he didn’t need it, he did appreciate being pushed around rather than hobbling on his crutches. He did specify that no one except Gideon or Jonas was allowed to push him around in it. He was quite capable of managing to wheel himself around with the rails on the wheels, but he wasn’t very practiced at it, so could only manage straight lines and short distances.

The tour reminded him a little of the game night in his hospital room. Everyone had turned up and Rip had given them the best guided tour that he could. He knew the exhibition inside out and back-to-front, having been in charge of setting it up over the last few months. He took the group around the many exhibits giving them a little information about each one and fielded the questions he was asked, both sensible and ridiculous. He supposed that the Cairo Museum might not be entirely enthused about dealing with his museum again, so it might be a long time before they had another Egyptian exhibition, but it had definitely been their fault that the statue was damaged. If you looked at the statue now then you couldn’t even tell where the damage had occurred. The museum conservators were very good at their jobs, and he’d have to remember to tell them that he appreciated that.

The group broke up into smaller ones for the remainder of the time that they had before the museum closed. Everyone was milling around, taking a second look at some of the most impressive treasures that were on display. It was only natural that Gideon, Jonas and Rip found themselves at the base of Khufu, looking up.

“He looks smaller than I thought he would,” said Gideon.

“Try having him land on your leg,” said Rip.

“I think I’d prefer not to thanks,” replied Gideon.

"You and me both," replied Rip.

“Does it still have blood on it from where it hit you?” asked Jonas.

“No, I’d imagine they cleaned that all off quite quickly,” said Rip. “And what kind of question is that anyway?”

Jonas shrugged. “I’m just wondering if the curse was triggered because you bled on it. That’s what happened in Mummy’s Curse 7.”

Rip raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I really don’t want to know any more about that. Where do you find these films?”

Jonas shrugged. “Netflix.”

“Of course, how silly of me to ask,” replied Rip, ruefully. “I hope none of them are 15s.”

Jonas gave his dad a very frustrated look. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Trust but verify,” said Gideon, leaning down to hug Rip from behind the wheelchair.

“Absolutely,” said Rip. “So how did they get rid of the mummy’s curse in Mummy’s Curse 7?”

Jonas shrugged. “I think they just asked the mummy nicely.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good film,” said Gideon.

“I didn’t say it was any good,” replied Jonas.

There was a shout from Lisa on the other side of the room. “Hey, Jonas, come and see this!”

Jonas turned and dashed away to go and see what their friend thought might be interesting. Rip pondered the statue.

“You could always try it,” said Gideon.

“What?”

“Asking Khufu nicely to lift the curse,” said Gideon.

“There is no curse,” said Rip. “And if I didn’t believe in the curse then I certainly don’t believe that asking a statue nicely will lift it.”

“Suit yourself,” said Gideon. “Oh, Ray’s waving at me. Give me a minute, I’ll go and see what he wants.”

Rip looked up at Khufu. This Egyptian Pharaoh had made his life hell these last few weeks and he still had a lot of recovery time ahead of him. He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Look, I realise how ridiculous this sounds,” he murmured quietly, looking Khufu square in the eye. “But I really wasn’t trying to steal you, and I’d very much appreciate it if you could lift the curse you put on me. It’s not asking for much to be left alone while my leg heals, surely? I mean, don’t you think that’s enough of a punishment for bringing you to America? I promise you’ll be on your way home by the end of the week.”

There was, of course, no indication that his words had been of any effect, not that he’d actually expected that there would be. He shook his head. What was he thinking? There was absolutely no point in talking to a statue, certainly not when the curse didn’t even exist. He wheeled himself backwards and towards where Gideon and Jonas were now waiting for him. Gideon gave him a knowing smile, and he suspected that she had taken in what he’d done, but she’d never be so mean as to give away his secret. Curses still didn’t exist, but what could a few words to a statue hurt?

The rest of their friends were now congregating in a group, and discussing trying to find somewhere to eat.

“Come on, Dad!” said Jonas, “I want pizza!”

“Of course you do,” replied Rip. “Well, unless anyone has any objections, I’d suggest we go out for pizza.”

The first pizza restaurant that they tried had just had a large party cancel, so they could accommodate everyone at one gigantic table that had already been set up. The service was exemplary, the food was perfect, they brought Rip an extra chair to rest his leg on and he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, perhaps, his apology had been taken on board and Prince Khufu had lifted the curse.

Certainly, the rest of his recovery was uneventful enough. Although when all was said and done, Gideon and Jonas were what really saw him through. Their dogged determination to help him get back on his feet would have beaten any curse hands down, he was absolutely certain of it, and thoroughly glad he had two such amazing people in his life.


End file.
